


Shadow of the Goddess

by MoonFox



Series: Shadows [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonFox/pseuds/MoonFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing Arthur, Merlin loses himself in his grief.   On the night of Samhain a vision of the Goddess appears to lead him from his madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Samhain

**Author's Note:**

> "Shadow of the Goddess" Het Merlin/Other (Canon)
> 
> Title: Shadow of the Goddess  
> Category: Het (Canon, after 5x13, disregarding final scene of old Merlin)  
> Characters/Pairings: Merlin/ Sefa  
> Rating/Warnings: M (sexual content)  
> Summary: It's the first Samhain after Camlann, Merlin is lost in the woods and within himself. A young woman heeds the call of the Goddess to help bring him peace on the holiest of nights.  
> Beta'ed by Nance, Cover by Caldera32. Thank you both, immensely!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Samhain, after Camlann

 

 

 

 

  


**T** he wind whispered a dark song through the trees, haunting and chilling. He stood immobile as the moonlight danced across the rippling water. He felt the spirits so close, he could almost touch them.

Voices, like a forgotten melody of the dead, sang a macabre tune in his mind that clashed with the wind. His vision came and went, swirling together the kings of the future, with the monarchs of long past. The tales they told him. The secrets they shared. They engulfed him...overwhelmed him. He screamed out in pain, uncaring if anyone could hear the call of his madness.

_"You poisoned me..."_

_"You lied to me."_

_"You would condemn our kind to death."_

_"How you've managed to deceive him...I am impressed, Merlin. Perhaps we're more alike than you think."_

_"Merlin, there is nothing you can do..."_

The most haunting of all, was his own voice.. _."I've failed."_

* * *

**S** he set out the plate of food for her father's ghost. A single candle burned on the table. Wax dripped onto the wood and seeped through the cracks.

_"He needs to be shown..."_  A voice whispered through her mind.

"Shown what?...And to whom?" She asked the voice.

_"He knew not...what we were fighting for. He did not understand...You can show him the beauty of our people...Teach him, what it means...I was wrong in my choices, but you can help to heal his mind now..."_

The candle flickered. In a puff of wind, it extinguished. At the same time, she heard a scream assault her mind.

Only the moonlight, streaming through a small window, offered any illumination the makeshift hut. Shivering, she tried to light the candle, only to have it snuffed out again...and again. A feral howl, barely recognizable as human, rattled her bones.

Tying her long brown hair back from her face, she donned her cloak. Almost as an afterthought, she lifted up the mask that hung near the mantle. It was her mother's headdress from her time as a High Priestess.

On a night such as this, when the world mourned the sacrifice of the Horned God, before his rebirth at midwinter, only children and those who dealt directly with the Veil, would wear the masks to protect themselves from the spirits. She was not a child, but neither did she have the training of either of her parents to protect herself.

Never having known her mother, the mask was the only item she owned in memory of the one who had borne her. She smiled as she affixed it over her face. She felt the soul of her mother accepting her daughter's choice. With a new sense of courage, she made her way out into the forest. She could feel her ancestors mingling with the spirits of the woods around her. Everything outside her small hut seemed more alive, than she had ever known. It was in that moment...she accepted her purpose.

Through the shadows of the trees, a brief light glimmered, then disappeared. Heedless of any danger, she ran after it.

Surrendering her senses to the Earth, she allowed her feet to move of their own accord; in balance with the world around her. Every stone, every branch, every late autumn leaf that littered the ground...she knew them all. The calls became more frantic and chilling. She didn't have much time before the source would become truly inhuman.

How she understood this, she would never know, but she accepted it and ran on. Branches of trees bent and swayed out of her path, allowing her passage to go unhindered. It was as if the very essence of Gaia wanted her to succeed, and this was her only opportunity to reach him. Once the Veil closed on this night, he would be lost forever to the darkness and insanity of Anwnn.

The light she followed, danced at the edge of her vision. After some time, it disappeared altogether, and she knew she was running out of time.

A whimpering sound turned her to the left. In a niche of a hill, huddled like a frightened rabbit amidst a storm of magic, he curled tighter into a fetal position. His hands were pressed against his head. She saw the self-inflicted claw marks across his eyes.

Steeling her resolve, she cautiously made her way towards him. She did not say a word, nor was he startled when her hand touched his bare arm. His clothing hung in tatters, from a frame starved for more than just human contact. A flicker of remorse washed over her, but she shoved it away. Even if she had known his state, he would not have been reachable before this night.

Moving closer, she gathered him to her breast and soothed him with nonsensical sounds; rocking him gently, until the red tears from his eyes slowed. Silently she called upon her ancestors to give her strength. He was almost gone, and she needed to find a way to bring him back.

Upon hearing her plea, the Goddess entered her. She was not one of the Triple Goddesses, revered by many in the dark times. This Goddess was beyond that; the embodiment of Gaia Herself, older and more forgiving. Her arms, as the arms of the Goddess, wrapped tighter around him, and helped him to stand. He turned his face down to her and the haunted countenance behind his eyes eased.

She kissed his brow. She kissed his eyes. Moving lower, she kissed his chest over his heart, before coming back up and capturing his lips.

He inhaled sharply. "Allow the spirit of the God to guide you." She whispered against his lips.

* * *

**H** e felt a peace come over him, for the first time in months...since the king had died. The voices screeching through his mind, grew quiet when her lips caressed his forehead. No longer did the demons dance before his eyes. Lips, plump and soft, she kissed each eye closed. When he opened them, his vision was clear, and his wounds began to heal. An exhaled breath when she touched his heart, eased the ache. By the time his lips pressed to hers, he was ready to give in.

Barely aware of his actions, he mimicked the pattern of her Blessed kisses. With each touch, he gave himself permission to lay the spirits to rest, until he felt hollow. It was not an emptiness he ever thought he would relish, but it brought him peace, and relief. He allowed himself to be embraced by this Goddess of the forest.

Fully and completely, the storm around them...and inside him...calmed as their passion increased. He knew what to do without ever having done it before. On the forest floor, under the light of the Samhain moon, he took her...and the Goddess let him...led him, engulfed him, and swallowed his seed within her womb.

She cried out his name, the name of the God within him, as the final throes of their ecstasy flared and then laid quiet...his head rested upon her breast. "Come with me." She whispered, as the Goddess left her.

He nodded mutely and rose to follow, pulling up his trousers in an automatic motion. She straightened her dress and wrapped her cloak around his threadbare, clothed form. The moon lit a path through the forest to the top of a hill, where the trees began to clear.

Across a meadow, bonfires burned. Men and women danced to the rhythm of the Earth's heartbeat, and to drums of their own making. Children ran around, masked and cloaked, to hide them from the spirits who celebrated with the druids, on this holiest of nights.

"Samhain is a time to celebrate those who have passed, not to mourn them. Walk between the worlds with us. Pass between the fires that represent the Veil, Emrys. Allow their flames to cleanse you..." A voice spoke to them both.

Merlin stepped slowly, reluctant at first, but he gained more confidence with each footfall. She held onto his arm as they approached the druid celebration.

"Your time has come to learn from us...if you are willing, Emrys." He turned to Iseldir and bowed his head.

He turned to Iseldir and bowed his head. "I am..."

He felt suddenly alone, as the Goddess incarnate released his arm and stepped away. He reached deep within himself for strength, and looked between the two largest bonfires. On the other side, ghosts smiled at him, beckoning to him.

"Pass through the Gates of the Underworld, and be cleansed. You will learn from our ways, while you await your rebirth."

Merlin nodded and put one foot in front of the other, each felt stronger...more in control. He knew the passage between the fires was symbolic, but he allowed their magic to seep inside him.

Everyone around...spirit and living...paused to watch.

Merlin couldn't describe the sensation that overcame him...except to call it freedom. He felt stronger and more alive than he had in years.

He laughed and clapped his hands over his mouth. He saw and felt the world around him...so alive in the final holiday of the year, and the first of the New Year...as the wheel of seasons turned. The sensation was stronger than anything he had known before. He loved it, cherished it and reveled in it.

He turned around and around, searching for the masked Goddess who had brought him out of the visions and into this place of peace, but she was gone. "Iseldir, who was she?"

"A girl, who needed healing, as much as you did, Emrys."

"But what was her name? I felt like...like, I knew her."

The druid chieftain smiled knowingly. "Perhaps she will be waiting for you, when you emerge from this dark time. She is the last daughter of the Great Rites between the Druids and the High Priestesses. Tonight, however, she was the avatar of the Earth Goddess who brought you to us. That is all you need to know for now."

Merlin sighed and searched the field with his eyes. Whoever she had been, she was gone, or at least without the mask, he didn't recognize her.

Someone passed him a horn filled with spiced mead. "Drink with us, Emrys, celebrate the lives of those that passed. Do not mourn them on this night. Instead, allow them to see the love you carry for them, so they may take it into the next life."

* * *

**S** he reached her small hut. Even without the candle, it no longer seemed as dark. She hung the mask back in its place, next to the hearth fire. Looking at the table, she saw that the food was missing. She smiled.

As the witching hour passed and the spirits began to depart, one last message came through, loud and clear, from her father.  _"I'm proud of you, Sefa."_


	2. Yule, Part 1 of 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the second installment of the Shadow of the Goddess series. This takes place over a year after the Samhain where Merlin was saved. Now, it is his turn to be the savior, but it comes with a shock he never would have imagined.

**She** could hear the knights behind her. Holding the bundle close to her chest, she ran as fast as she dared over the frost covered ground. Sefa knew she had been careless, going into a town so close to one of the patrol routes of Camelot to get supplies. It had barely been over two years, since her escape from the dungeons. She still regretted that she had allowed her father to talk her into giving him information about the king's plans.

In a few months, the realm would see the second anniversary of the queen's solitary reign. Gwen had been so kind to her. She felt her feet slipping out from underneath her, and the blanketed bundle in her arms nearly dropped.

The knights were on top of her, and she screamed as one of them grabbed her arms. She lost her grip on the blankets, and they tumbled to the frozen ground.

One of the knights, a massive blond man, stepped up to inspect it. She remembered from her time as a maid, and hoped he was as kind as she recalled.

"Please..." She begged him.

The one who held her arms, a wiry man with reddish hair and a sour look, turned her towards him. His leather-gloved hand found her cheek in a backhand slap, that knocked her to the ground. "Quiet, wench. You have an appointment with the gallows for treason." He hauled her up by her armpits, and shoved her roughly towards the horses.

The blond knight noticed something odd in the wrappings on the ground, and knelt down. His eyes widened when he saw what was inside. It wasn't something a fugitive would normally have.

"Leave it, Percival."

Percival's eyes narrowed, "Geraint, it's..."

"I don't care what it is. You will leave it, as I am ordering you."

"No." The blond knight picked up the tangled mess of rough blankets. He shot a glare towards his superior. "I'm taking it with us. If you have a problem, we can take it up with Sir Leon and the queen, when we return to Camelot."

Geraint inhaled sharply, and pushed Sefa with more force than was necessary. She fell to her knees, and could feel the where the bruises would form from hitting the frozen ground sharply. The young woman made no complaint, sparing a silent glance of gratitude to the larger knight.

* * *

 

**Her** face was red and bruised from the knight's abusive treatment. She could feel the soreness in her arms and legs. The bruising on her knees stung sharply, as she was forced to kneel before the Queen of Camelot.

Guinevere's eyes narrowed with recognition and disappointment. "Sefa. I had long thought you would have fled these lands."

Sefa bit back tears of fear and regret. She would have left the lands, except she feared going too far from Camelot. The druids had been so kind to her, even though she wasn't exactly one of them. The warrior tribe of her father had estranged themselves from the rest of their people long ago. She was unique among all people, the last child born after the Purge from the Great Rites. A daughter of a priestess and a druid, but with no powers of her own, except to occasionally channel one of the Goddesses, who were once worshipped all over the lands.

The only connection she had to anyone, was to a man who barely even knew of her existence. He happened to live in Camelot.

Lifting her eyes slightly, she scanned the room, a feeble hope in her heart, that he might be here. Her heart lurched in disappointment. She almost chuckled at the thought. He didn't even know. He might never know.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The queen was asking her.

"I ask nothing for myself, Majesty. Only that...at my home...I left something very precious to me."

"You are in no position to make any requests. The queen will not be bribed by your trinkets!" Geraint's hand came down forcefully.

"Sir Geraint! You will stand down!" Guinevere ordered. Her dark brown eyes were set and hardened. "You are dismissed, Sir Knight."

The doors at the end of the throne room burst open. Sir Leon rushed inside and bowed to the queen. "My Lady, Merlin just returned from Mercia with news from King Bayard."

Guinevere smiled at the curly-haired knight. "Very well. Sefa, I will deal with you more later. Guards, take her to the dungeon for now."

"No...please...I must get home, Your Majesty...Please...let me go home."

The queen made no acknowledgement of Sefa's request, as the guards took the young woman away.

* * *

 

**Leon** glanced at Gwen, a question lingering on his lips.

"As much as I would like to listen to her rambles, Sir Leon, she is a traitor to the kingdom. I will hear her out at a later time." Smoothing out her bodice, Gwen pushed back her emotions. She accepted a cloak that a servant brought her, and made her way out to the steps of the castle to greet her Court Sorcerer.

The tall knight bowed his head in acquiescence.

* * *

 

**"...so,** I told King Bayard, if he wants a treaty with Camelot, under your rule, he was just going to have to accept my apology, or else we were done."

"Merlin, that happened twelve years ago!"

"I know that!"

"It should have been left in the past!" Gwen groaned into her hands. "Why would you even have brought something like that up?"

"Perhaps, because I nearly died from it...Hello?"

"What am I going to do with you? The treaty was in place, all you had to do was finish the formalities!"

"I know, that's why I only thought out that conversation, and didn't actually say anything about it." He chuckled and held up a scroll case. "Actually, Bayard had no idea I was even the same person."

Gwen took the case from her best friend and smacked his arm with it, in frustration. She began opening the tube when there was a knock at her door. "Enter." The queen summoned, amidst a fit of giggles brought on by her friend's humor. "I should have named you Court Jester, instead of Sorcerer."

"My Lady." Percival greeted her. "I must speak with you about Sefa."

Gwen sighed and set the case aside.

Merlin looked at his queen with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't aware, she had been found."

"I will deal with her on the morrow, Sir Percival." She turned to Merlin and explained, "A patrol caught her today, just outside of Brookshire."

"I'm sorry, My Lady...I don't think it can wait that long." The tremble in the large knight's voice was distinct.

"Why? What happened?" Merlin asked.

"When we found her, she was carrying what looked to be rotted blankets, but inside was a jar filled with milk, some nearly rotten vegetables, and...swaddling...for a baby."

"A baby?" Gwen gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "That stupid girl, why didn't she speak up more! Where is the child, Sir Percival?"

"She said she left it in the small cottage, where she had been living alone. She knew it would be too hard to carry the child and the supplies in the cold, so she left it in the house, hoping to not be gone long."

Releasing a shaky breath, Gwen looked at Merlin. "That must have been early this morning. I can't imagine the child would survive this long on its own, with the weather outside." She bit her lip. "Why didn't she say anything?"

"Was Sir Geraint in the room?" Percival asked, and the queen nodded. He sighed, "He was rather rough towards her, when we caught her. She was probably afraid he'd do something to the child."

"Guinevere..." Merlin started to say.

He only used her full name when the situation was serious. He didn't need to ask the question she knew was on his mind. "Go." She ordered, "Both of you. See if you can find her home, and pray that it's not too late!"

"I'll go get her..."

"No. Too many already know she has been captured, and if she were to escape you in the coming storm...or if she is lying, I'd never hear the end of it."

Reluctantly, Merlin nodded his understanding. He personally, couldn't care less about what others thought, but Sefa was the last of the traitors from Arthur's reign, and many good men had died due to her deception.

 


	3. Yule, Part 2 of 8

Bright, blue light streamed through the trees, and illuminated the small forest path ahead of them. Merlin's steps faltered, when he spotted a vaguely familiar game trail to his left. He knew where it led, and it was not a place he planned on visiting again.

Percival stopped and turned back to the warlock. "What is it?"

"After..." His voice developed a hitch, and he coughed to try and clear it. "After Arthur died, I lost myself for a while. I spent...I don't know how long... at a place down that way, deeper in the forest, with nothing but depression, and insanity to keep me company."

Merlin was surprised at himself for admitting such a weakness. He didn't recall much of what he had gone through, but he remembered clearly, Samhain night a year ago. The Goddess had come to him, in a beautiful guise, and drew him back out into the world. He'd never made love to a woman before that...or since.

She guided him to the druids, and then disappeared into the night. After which, Merlin had spent time with the peaceful tribes, until the night of the Winter Solstice. As the sun was reborn from the longest night of the year, so too, was he. The warlock made his way back to Camelot, after months of absence, and was welcomed home by his friends with open arms.

Time had changed Camelot, after Arthur's demise. Gwen had worked diligently, through her own period of mourning, to bring about peace...and a change in the laws that had kept Camelot as a target for people like Morgana.

By spring, she had convinced him to accept the title of Court Sorcerer, and kept him busy as an ambassador for the kingdom. He marvelled at the changes that had taken place since the long night, which he now considered his re-birth day. Merlin had gone to every druid ritual since that time, hoping to catch another glimpse of his Goddess.

A sensation tickled the edges of his mind, but he shook it off. "Let's keep going. She told you it was near here, correct?"

Percival nodded, and they continued on, bypassing the game trail.

* * *

 

The cold wind had begun to pick up, as they continued on. The howling through the trees made it hard to hear anything beyond the storm.

"It has to be close!" Percival yelled over the cacophony created by the branches whipping at each other.

Merlin cast a minor spell to enhance his hearing, so the large knight wouldn't have to raise his voice...and that was when he heard it.

It was faint. So much so, that at first, Merlin thought he imagined it. Then, it came again...a stilted, halting cry...almost more of a whimper. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound. When he opened them again, he knew the direction to go. "Over here!" He called to Percival, and dashed through the trees towards the sound.

The cottage was dark. The fire having long since burnt to coals. Raggedy hiccups from a makeshift cradle near the hearth, filled both men with relief.

Moving to the small bed, Merlin smiled and reached inside. The baby was still alive. Even without the fire, the walls of the home kept the worst of the winds at bay, and the pile of blankets around the child kept it warm. Although, much of the bedding was soaked with urine and messed with feces, from the baby's long, lonely day.

Uncaring about the poop and pee, Merlin wrapped the infant inside his cloak to warm it. "Shhh, little one. You're safe. We'll have you to your mother soon."

Percival's gaze shot towards the door. They could hear the storm gaining in intensity. "I'm going to go try and take care of the horses."

Sighing, Merlin glanced around the small hovel. There wasn't much room, and they would be in trouble if the animals spooked, but it wasn't right to leave them out in the elements. "Move the table closer to the fire, and there should be enough room for them in here."

The large knight nodded and did as Merlin suggested. Since neither had grown up with privilege, they both knew that it wasn't uncommon for livestock to be brought inside during winter gales. While the knight tended to the horses, Merlin used his magic to rekindle the fire in the hearth. He sat on the floor nearby, and pulled out the bladder of fresh goat's milk they had brought with them.

First thing he needed to do, as per Gaius' instructions, was to make sure the child was fed. Cleaning could wait until afterwards. Without nourishment, the strenuous exercise of clearing away the mess, and redressing the child, could put too much strain on the already weakened little form.

Warmth crept into the room, chasing away the chilled air. The child's distended belly told the warlock when it had its fill of milk. Merlin found a pot and filled it with water. He didn't wait for it to warm on the metal hooked arm over the fire. Instead, he used his magic again to heat the contents.

A cooing giggle escaped the baby, and Merlin looked down to see it staring at his eyes. He grinned, "You like the flashing glow? Well, lets get you cleaned up the old-fashioned way. Then, maybe I'll let you see that some more, eh?"

He placed the infant on the cleanest corners of one of the soiled blankets. He rocked back on his heels and looked around for a cleaning cloth. Not seeing any, he took off the folded cloth around his neck. It was a fine spun linen, which Gwen had gifted him, to replace the threadbare, coarse neckerchief he used to wear. Dipping it in the warm water, he began cleaning as he unwrapped the child.

"Aw, it's a little girl." Percival said, smiling with delight, as he glanced over Merlin's shoulder.

The warlock grinned. He didn't bundle her back up right away. Instead, he chose to let the red irritation around her lower body breath in the warm air. The rash, caused by spending an entire day laying in her own waste, looked raw and knew he wouldn't want to be swaddled again ^ with sores like that.

"I figured Sefa would have told you whether it was a boy or girl ^ when you went down to find out where she lived."

Percival shook his head. "I was too worried about the possibility of a child being alone...I just demanded to know which direction it was, from where we had captured her."

Nodding, Merlin sat back and watched the little girl playing with her toes. The fuzz of hair on top of her head appeared black in the dim light, unlike her mother's auburn coloring.

"I wonder who her father is?" Percival asked, echoing Merlin's thoughts.

The warlock shrugged, "I better make us something to eat. By the sounds of the storm outside, we're better off staying put for the night."

 


	4. Yule, Part 3 of 8

After a small meal of reconstituted meat and broth, Merlin decided to finally dress the baby girl and feed her again. Percival offered to, but the warlock was feeling rather uncharacteristically protective over the child. Whenever he looked into her pale, blue eyes, she would stare back at him. There was wisdom in their depths, and a connection he couldn't fathom.

"I don't think I've ever seen you with a child. You're a natural."

Merlin smiled from ear to ear. "I can't describe it. It just feels so right."

The knight's face fell. "Well. Then, maybe you can take her in...after..." His words stuttered to a standstill.

It wasn't something either one of them wanted to think about. "There's got to be some way..."

"You didn't see Geraint. He still blames her for a lot of what happened, in that last year before Camlann."

"His brother was one of the men who died in Ismere, correct?"

Percival nodded, "...And his family is one of the most powerful in Camelot. Gwen would need a lot of support, and a good reason to go up against them. The taxes from their lands pay for a lot of Camelot's army. Unless, if she was to escape..."

Merlin shook his head sadly. "No...I think, we'll have to figure out a different way."

The little girl started wriggling in his arms. Her face morphed from the cheerful giggles of delight, to the most intense worry Merlin had ever seen. She started to whimper.

Cuddling her closer, he stood up and started pacing with her, bouncing lightly in his arms. "We shouldn't even think about this right now. We can wait until she falls asleep."

"I've heard how babies can sense moods. This little bird seems to be extremely adept at it."

The constant movement soothed the girl, and soon she was sound asleep in Merlin's arms.

"That's interesting." Percival commented in a quiet voice.

Merlin's eyebrows lifted in curiousity. He looked to where Percival was pointing, into a deep shadow above, and to the side of the mantle. The warlock froze, his blue eyes widening in shock.

He stared at the item hanging there, before his unblinking eyes drifted down to the baby in his arms. "How old do you think she is?" The baritone voice was laden with unspoken emotions.

Cocking his head to the side, Percival thought for a moment. "Maybe just a few months. What is it?"

A lump formed in Merlin's throat, and he found he wasn't able to answer his friend. His gaze shot back and forth between the child, and what he now recognized, was a mask.

He felt his knees go weak. Backing up, he leaned against the table for support.

"Are you alright?"

Swallowing hard against the emotional blockage behind his Adam's apple, he passed the sleeping girl over to Percival. "I need some air."

"Merlin...the storm is still..."

"I'll be fine! I've just got to go...check on something." He sprinted out the door. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears. Merlin didn't bother with a light. The wind whipped against his face, forcing the moisture to unleash. Choking back a sob, he ran...back down the main path, towards the game trail.

Allowing his instinctual magic to guide him, he found himself at the base of a hill, in a secluded niche. It was protected from the tempestuous weather rolling through the area. He fell to his knees, as visions began to assault him.

The madness.

The pain...both emotional and physical.

His own blood under his fingernails.

When he was in Camelot, he would use his magic to hide the small scars left by him attempting to dig out his own eyes.

He wailed, as loud as the storm. This was where he lost himself...after he lost Arthur...after he lost Kilgharrah...

This was where she found him.

The Goddess of Mercy. The Goddess of Light...HIS Goddess. The vision in the white mask, who had come to him...had made love to him under the stars, and drew him out of his own maelstrom of emotions...reached him the only way she could.

She had disappeared after that. He never knew what had happened, or who she was. Merlin began to believe it was all a hallucination, or a vision of magic, like in the Crystal Cave before Camlann.

After a while, he came to accept that he would never know who she was, or see her again. Iseldir had told him. She was a girl who needed healing just as much as he had.

The mask above the mantle, and the young woman in the cells of Camelot, told him why.

She had lost just as much to Morgana's battle as he had. Together they found peace...

Back in the tiny hut was proof of their one night of healing. He wept, still smelling the distinct aroma of the child on his clothing. Before this, he would have pulled a face of disgust, but somehow knowing she was his child, made all the difference.

A crash of lightning overhead, rare in the cold storms of winter, brought him out of his thoughts, when he realized it was a manifestation of his emotional turmoil. He decided on one thing, then and there. Sefa would not die for her crimes. Merlin would do everything in his power, even if that included getting himself banished from Camelot, to save her...his saviour.

Once again, she was saving him from falling into despair. He pulled himself to his feet, and began the trek against the wind, towards Sefa's home, towards a new purpose.

When he arrived, soaked and chilled, Percival's eyes rose to meet his.

"She woke up the moment you left and started crying. I think she missed you. The little thing finally cried herself to exhaustion."

Merlin gave a strained smile, and looked at the child with hair the color of a raven's wing, and felt another sob forming. He nodded and caressed her cheek with his finger.

She flinched against the cold skin in her sleep, at first. Her pale, blue eyes blinked open. She began cooing and smiling up at him, as if she knew who he was...as if she had known, since the moment they arrived.

"Merlin?" Percival shook his head in wonder. "What do you know about this child? Did you have a vision of her?"

"No." He felt his heart warming at the sight of her. He choked on his laughter, when the girl suddenly made a face, and noises came from her bottom.

Percival's eyes went wide and he began stammering.

"Let me dry off, and I'll take her, Percival." He debated with himself about how much he should tell his friend. Then, he remembered it was Percival's suggestion for Sefa to escape and decided his friend needed to know. The time for secret keeping was long past, between the two men. "I think she's mine."

The words were spoken so softly, the knight wasn't certain if he'd actually heard his friend correctly. "What?"

Merlin pulled out some dry clothing, and began to change while he explained, "Samhain before last...in the depths of my insanity, a...well, I thought she was the Goddess incarnate...came to me. Perhaps, she was...but she was also just a woman, with as much pain in her heart as I had."

The warlock pointed to the mask above the mantle. "It was Sefa. I think that little girl you're holding...I think she's my daughter."

Merlin was startled by Percival's guffaw. "That makes so much sense."

The warlock released a grateful sigh, and finished dressing. He then set up things to change the swaddling of the precious, little girl. Merlin wished he had some of Gaius' salve to ease the soreness of the rash. Taking her from Percival, he set to work, giggling and making faces at her the entire time.

"So, what are we going to do when we return to Camelot?" The knight asked.

"I won't let Sefa be punished...I can't. No matter the cost."

"I will help you, anyway I can, my friend." Percival vowed.

 


	5. Yule, Part 4 of 8

Sefa pulled the threadbare cloak around her. The stones of the walls and floor of the dungeons felt ice-cold to the touch. Run-off from the castle roofs and the courtyard drained in through the narrow, barred window, hardening into magnificent sculptures of ice on the way down. It was all she could do to keep from freezing.

Her mind, however, was not on her own comfort, or the streams of frozen water. They were on the child. Part of her wanted to curse herself for leaving her baby alone in the hut, but being a single parent of what would be considered a bastard child, was difficult. Choices had to be made sometimes, and she had never expected to be gone more than half a day. It was providence actually, with the way the ruddy knight had treated her, that she hadn't brought her daughter.

Although, the large knight might have been more assertive with his superior if there had been a child. Still, it was frightening to think about what could have happened.

She had hoped to see Merlin in the throne room. Her dreams of the night they shared together plagued her nights. Sefa woke sometimes, wishing he was next to her, holding her, comforting her...kissing her. The one night they shared was intense and desperate. She only had her fantasies of what he might be like, in a less stressful situation.

Sefa wondered what he would think of the little girl he didn't know existed. The druids had told her, when she discovered for certain that she was carrying his child, that he was not to be told. The powers of the earth were to decide when that was to happen. She was not to interfere.

A heavy sigh, through chattering teeth, escaped her. Her heart clenched at the thought of what might happen to her child, if now wasn't the time.

Well into the night, she laid awake on the cold floor, that was covered with only a thin layer of straw; hoping he would find out she was here, and come to see her.

Before her betrayal, they had shared embarrassed smiles over a few flirtatious words. The young woman still felt horrible about the way her father, and in turn herself, were used by Morgana. She had written to her father just after being granted the position of handmaid for the queen. It was never her intention to cause the death or capture of so many...nor was it her father's, she was sure. Sefa vowed to herself, that if she managed to escape the gallows, she would never use her own daughter in such a manner.

The portcullis at the end of the hallway clanked open, and disrupted her musings. She heard hushed voices from the corridor, someone was dismissing the guards. Her heart skipped a beat, drawing on what little hope she had, that it might have been Merlin.

It sank into the pit of her stomach when the red-headed knight's face smiled at her through the bars. The feral grin, full of teeth and malicious intent, had her scrambling backwards into a corner. He shook the door of the cell, rattling both her cage and her nerves. He laughed maniacally, as he unlocked the cell, and stepped inside. Every movement he made was deliberate, she could tell...meant to set her on edge...and it was working.

"Now, then." He said, when he stopped just a few feet in front of her. "I thought we could have some time to get to know each other. The queen scheduled your appointment with the noose for the day after tomorrow."

She was unable to contain her whimper of fear. He knelt down to her level and reached for her face.

"Sir Geraint!" An authoritative voice called out from the corridor, just before he touched her. "I believe Queen Guinevere commanded that you stay away from the prisoner."

When Geraint turned, she could see just over his shoulder. The man in the doorway looked like a noble, but in the shadows of the dungeon, she couldn't make out his face.

The knight stiffened and scowled. His hand dropped abruptly. Standing up, he turned and headed for the door. He tried to push his way past the figure, whom Sefa then saw was a few inches taller than the ruddy knight.

The shadowed man stood still, waiting for the knight to disappear down the corridor, before feeling it was safe to enter the cell. Her eyes followed him, like a terrified rabbit, trying to ascertain if the newcomer was safe or just another predator. He moved in front of her, and crouched down to her eye level.

As he reached out towards her face, she finally recognized him. "Sir Leon!"

He smiled sadly at her. "Come with me. The queen has requested that you be taken to Gaius, so that he may see to your injuries." Leon said, holding out his hand to assist her.

Sefa wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. What was the point in having her bruises nursed, only to turn around and face death. Gwen had never struck the young woman as cruel, but this felt odd. Was she was to be cleaned up and cared for, before being paraded out into the courtyard...just to show the public how she hadn't been kept in the dungeon...to illustrate that she wasn't half-starved, face beaten, and weak?

The auburn haired woman didn't care how the world saw her. She was tired. Her child's fate was unknown to her. Even if she had made it back to the hovel, her supplies were so scant, that she doubted either of them would have made it through the winter. The druids would have taken her in, had she been able to find them, but they had moved on before she had even thought to look.

Sefa was determined that she'd be able to manage. She had done so on her own, the previous winters. Life with an infant was much more difficult than she ever imagined, and the season was proving to be among the worst the region had seen in years. With no family to turn to, or anyone else around willing to take in a traitor and a bastard child, she was left on her own.

Her own milk was slow in coming and the undernourishment, made her supply even less. The one jar of goat's milk she managed to acquire, before her capture, was stolen from someone outside the nearby town. Perhaps, she thought, this was for the best. This way, she wouldn't be subjected to watching her innocent angel starve, or freeze to death.

She followed Leon silently through the passages and up the stairs to the Physician's Chamber. As her body warmed, on the walk through the castle, she wondered if Percival was being truthful with her, and if he had managed to find her home in the storm. Even if he did, would he have found the child alive? What would become of the little girl if he did, and there was no one willing to take her in?

They reached the door, and her heart fluttered upon hearing a faint cry she would recognize anywhere. Her breasts ached with what little clogged milk she had available, and Sefa felt them weeping in anticipation.

Wanting nothing more than to rush past Sir Leon into the room, she was halted by the number of people she saw inside.

Gaius, appearing older than she remembered, was sitting at a work table, brewing his tonics. He turned to her. His eyebrow rose. The queen sat on a stool beside the table in the center of the room. When she turned to Sefa, her face was unreadable. Percival sat on a bench across from the queen. He smiled and nodded at Sefa.

An older woman, with a long gray braid, was bent over a bundle of clean blankets on a cot near the hearth.

It was all the young woman could do, to keep from rushing to the fireside, where the cries were emanating from. She looked back to Gwen, seeking permission.

The queen's face lifted into a smile, and she nodded.

Sefa exhaled in gratitude and raced over to the cot.

"I think someone is hungry." The older woman said in a motherly tone, from years of practice as a healer and midwife. She stood up, and allowed Sefa to take her place on the cot. "Get her fed. Then we'll get you cleaned up, my dear. There's a tonic on the table for you. It will help ease the flow of your milk."

Sefa mumbled her thanks, as the woman unfolded a privacy screen, to block the cot from the rest of the room.

Bright, shining, blue eyes looked up at her. Sefa giggled in relief, tears falling onto her cheeks. She was safe...her baby was safe. Whatever the fates had planned for Sefa from that moment on, didn't matter. Her hands fumbled with the ties of her tattered cloak. The knot was swollen from the damp dungeon. Her fingers had started to numb from the weather, the morning prior, and now they ached from trying to hold her wet cloak around herself during the night in the dungeon.

She whimpered in frustration. After all she had been through, the young mother wanted nothing more than to hold her baby and feed her, yet she was being thwarted by two pieces of ribbon.

"Let me help you." A familiar voice said quietly.

Her eyes lifted and she gasped. She hadn't seen him, when she entered the room. Unable to speak, she simply nodded and let her hands fall from the tie.

Merlin gave her the barest hint of a smile, as he bent over and began to work the knot. As it fell free, he carefully peeled the wet cloth off her shoulders. His stormy, blue eyes finally met her own. He licked his lips nervously and bundled the rotting cloak up in his hands. Turning away, he deposited it on a nearby chair. He handed her the tonic, and made sure she drank it, before he picked up a blanket from the end of the cot. Placing it around her, he looked down when the baby girl cooed.

"She's beautiful," he said, as he stared at the girl. "What's her name?"

"Liliane." Sefa croaked out. Her voice was hoarse from all the stress she had been through. "She's named after my mother." She started to push the shoulder of her dress down, and turned away hesitantly. Nursing in itself, was a natural act, and women were never chastised for it, but it was the embarrassment of seeing Merlin again, that caused her hands to falter.

"I can leave, if you would feel more comfortable."

"No. Please, stay." Her voice was quiet and meek. "I...I don't want to be alone." They fell into silence as she picked up Liliane, and positioned the girl in her arms. The baby latched on immediately, drawing security and nourishment from her mother. After a few minutes, Sefa's other breast was painfully needing attention. Merlin held the blanket and looked away modestly, while Sefa repositioned herself and the child.

The feeling of relief that flowed out of her, like the milk, warmed her more than the blanket or the fire. Soon, the black-haired girl was sound asleep, the nipple still in her mouth as a means of comfort.

"Would you like me to hold her, while you get cleaned up?" He asked softly. The gentleness in his voice was more than Sefa could have imagined. She started to shake her head, glancing down at the slumbering babe. Her hands were coated in filth. The grime under her fingernails alone was evidence of her recent hardships, but also a reminder that she hadn't felt truly clean for weeks.

Prying the suckling mouth of her daughter away, she held the child out to Merlin.

The grin of delight on his face spoke volumes about his connection to the child. Sefa wondered if he knew, or at least suspected Liliane's origins. "Merlin...will you take care of her?"

"Of course." He answered, without hesitation.

"Good, because I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her after I'm gone."

"Gone?" His eyes shot up, and he stared at her.

To Sefa, it seemed that he didn't know that she had a death sentence hanging over her head. "Sir Geraint said I was scheduled for...execution." She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, while his widened with realization.

He crouched down in front of her and cupped her face in his palm. His thumb caressed her cheek. It had been so long, since she had experienced such a touch from another person. Soft and gentle, not asking for anything, or just to be polite, but it gave her a comfort she'd nearly forgotten even existed. She would have faced her fate content, knowing he would take care of Liliane, but knowing his touch...She felt a shiver course through her.

Merlin's eyes roamed her face. He quietly asked, "It was you...wasn't it? Samhain night, a year ago..."

Leaning into his hand, all she could do was nod, before she was wrapped up in his arm. Liliane snuggled in the crook of his elbow between them. "I won't let anything happen to you. You saved me, Sefa. I knew it was you, when I saw the mask in your cottage." He took a deep breath and buried his face in her hair. He kissed her head and pulled her tighter against him. "I swear, I will find a way to save you. Liliane will not grow up without a mother."

His words gave her a sense of hope that she hadn't felt in years. A wracking sob shook through her. She clung tightly to his shirt.

"Merlin..." Someone gasped. Her eyes shifted to the edge of the screen. She quickly looked to the floor, after she saw it was the queen. Sefa's pulse was pounding in her ears. She hadn't heard what the queen said after that.

Merlin didn't respond, so she glanced up and met his eyes. His blue depths conveyed a silent message to her. The kiss he gave her was chaste, but the warmth behind it melted her heart.

 


	6. Yule, Part 5 of 8

Gwen had dismissed both Leon and Percival, after her former maid was brought in. Gaius was working with a woman Merlin had recently convinced her to hire, insisting she was one of the best healers in all the realms. The queen had been surprised to find out that the elderly Court Physician was once betrothed to the newcomer, and that she had once lived in Camelot, prior to Uther's Purge. With the laws concerning magic changing, Alice was welcomed back into the kingdom. The queen supposed there was more to the story than Merlin was letting on, but things like that were in the past. They were part of Uther's reign, not hers.

When Percival and Merlin had arrived with the baby, Gwen was grateful to have such an accomplished healer and midwife on hand. Now, if she could only figure out what to do about the child's mother.

When Sefa's initial treachery was discovered, Gwen had sentenced her to hang. Although, she admitted later to Gaius that her intent was not to kill the girl, simply to draw out Sefa's father. But, that was back when Arthur was still king, and the queen was able to have a softer heart. With the weight of the entire kingdom on her shoulders, and men like Geraint breathing down her neck, she didn't know if she could be as lenient.

Merlin's attitude towards the whole affair was confusing. There was a bond with the child, that the queen had never expected to see. When Alice took the girl and began to assess her, Merlin stepped back, and sat in the stairwell leading to his old room. He was half-hidden in the shadows, but never more that a few steps away from her. His eyes softened when he looked toward the baby, and then grew distant.

Gwen's back was towards him, when Sefa was brought in, but she could almost feel his eyes watching the young woman. Alice had pulled the screen closed, and Merlin stood up. He walked behind it, which caused the queen's curiosity to rise even more. There was a mystery to be solved, before she could pass her final judgement.

When Sefa's cries began to filter through the room, Gwen had enough of waiting to speak with her. Standing up from the stool, she smoothed down her dress...a habit she had developed as way to combat her former quirk of chewing on her fingers.

She walked around the edge of the screen, conscious of the stares from both healers. What she saw broke her heart.

Merlin and Sefa, clung tightly to each other, both crying. The baby girl nestled between them. Except for the tears, it was a perfect scene of domestic bliss. "Merlin..." The queen gasped, "Why didn't you tell me?"

The warlock glanced up. He opened his mouth to respond. Then he closed it and looked down. She followed his eyes to the woman and child.

Sefa's eyes rose to meet his. Gwen bit her lip when he moved to kiss her gently, before he peeled himself away. He gave the child back to her mother, and motioned to the queen that he wanted to speak with her alone.

* * *

 

Her chest tightened and she felt a wave of panic as he left her. She consoled herself with the promise he had made and clung tighter to her daughter. Sefa heard Merlin and the queen's footsteps until the door of the chambers closed behind them.

Alice's pleasant face came around the corner of the screen. "Is she all fed now, dear?"

"Yes." Sefa forced herself to smile. "Thank you." She felt extremely shy and lost.

Seeming to sense her mood, Alice suggested, "Why don't we let her sleep on the cot and look at you for a bit. I have some water and soap here for washing, and I can help you with your hair, if you like."

As much as she appreciated the sentiment, Sefa was reluctant to agree. "It may not matter, if I'm cleaned or not."

"Nonsense. I have been in your shoes, albeit without a child as you have, but being a traitor to the Crown is nothing new to these old bones." Alice winked conspiratorially.

Sefa felt a boost of confidence. It seemed that between Merlin and the healer, her future was beginning to seem brighter. She worried about the possibility of having to be on the run, with Liliane, but at least there was now a chance for them both.

* * *

 

He followed behind his queen through the corridors of the palace. He felt like he was once again the servant, as he used to be. Merlin closed the door to her chambers behind him. He leaned against it, drawing strength from its solidity.

"I will have her brought to the Throne Room tomorrow for her trial." Gwen stated regally and then turned on him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't even know myself, until last night." Merlin confessed.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Seriously, Gwen. I didn't know. After Ar...After Camlann, I told you, I wasn't in a good place, mentally speaking. On one of the holiest of nights, a vision of a Goddess came to me. She drew me out of it. That was when I was taken to the druids, so I could heal, and then I came back to you."

The queen dropped into a chair, exhausted. She motioned for Merlin to come and sit with her. "Truly?"

"I swear, Gwen. I had no idea, until Percival and I arrived at the tiny cottage she was living in. Liliane..." His mind drifted to the child, and he found himself unconsciously smiling at the mere thought of her. "When I saw her, there was a connection. Who would have thought, I'd have a child. There was something there, in Sefa's home, that I recognized from that night, and I knew then, it was she who came to me."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. If she had been found by someone else...or brought in quietly, I could have easily overlooked everything. But, I cannot think of my own desires, or those of my friends. I need the support of Sir Geraint's family, Merlin."

Merlin looked her straight in the eyes. "If you sentence her to death, I will take them both, and flee."

She nearly choked on his words. "Are you threatening me?"

It took him a few moments to answer. For more than twelve years, Merlin had given everything to Camelot. Any chance of happiness and normality had been shoved aside, for Arthur first, and since Camlann...for Gwen. He felt something break within him, as he was faced with the choice...two families...one being the noble he served...or his own. After so much hardship, his path was clear. "Yes. I am."

The queen was visibly taken aback by the conviction in his voice. "I must think of the kingdom first! What would happen if I lost the support of the nobles?"

He shrugged, no longer caring what might happen. "What will you do, if you lose mine?" Even he felt the sting of his own words. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and calmed himself. When he opened them again, he leaned forward and took Gwen's hand. "Where is the kind-hearted maid, who was my first friend in Camelot? Where is the tempered spirit, who used to keep Arthur in line, and who stood up to the likes of Agravaine to make certain the common people were cared for, when the Dorocha were wreaking havoc?"

"She has to think about more than herself, these days..."

"What would you do...if it was your child?" He knew it was a low-blow.

Gwen's eyes squeezed tightly together, and she turned away from him.

He rose to leave. "You'll find a way. I have faith in you, Guinevere." The door closed behind him before he saw the first of her tears fall.

 


	7. Yule, Part 6 of 8

The hour was late, when Merlin finally arrived back at the Physician's Chambers. Percival was standing guard outside the door. He glanced around to be certain they were alone, before asking, "What are we doing?"

Merlin knew the large knight had vowed himself to the kingdom, and he hated that his actions might put that in jeopardy. "Nothing for now. The trial and sentencing is tomorrow. I'll decide what to do, after that. No matter what the outcome, I need you here, Percival. You are a member of the Queen's Guard, more so than you are a knight in the army. If I leave, she will only have you and Leon to help protect her."

"...But what about Sefa and the girl?"

Merlin held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I will take care of that. For the love of Arthur and Camelot, I will need you here."

Percival nodded his assent, as Merlin passed him to go into the chambers.

* * *

 

The room was dim and quiet. The lingering smell of the tonics and herbs, hung in the air. It was a familiar scent, which Merlin missed in the personal chambers Gwen had given him, when he was given a seat on her Council. Gaius' bed was empty, and he smirked, thinking about how often that was lately. Although they tried to hide it, Merlin knew most nights his mentor was more than likely up in the room that had once been Merlin's own...curled up next to Alice.

He tiptoed over to the screen that still blocked the patient cot from the room, near the fireplace. Long auburn hair, still damp from washing, hung over the edge of the small bed. Tucked into a makeshift cradle, the dark-haired angel slumbered near her mother.

Sitting down near the head of the bed, and next to the cradle, Merlin studied Sefa's face. His mind drifted through thoughts of what could have been, and what could be. When she first came to work at the castle, they had both been shy. Something about her had caught his eye, even though his schedule of following Arthur around, didn't allow for much personal time. He'd hoped, when she took the position as Gwen's handmaiden, that it would let them see each other more.

His whole world had revolved around Arthur, and daydreams like that were dangerous for him. A single tear caught on his eyelashes, remembering how Freya had died. It had happened so long ago, and he had come to terms with it, but the loss of a chance at happiness, still ached.

Merlin hadn't taken the time to even think about love, or his own future since then...until he met Sefa.

When he had returned from Ismere, everything had changed…The vision of Mordred, then Mordred himself…Having seen Aithusa for the first time in years…Morgana and her schemes. All of that...then, upon returning from Camelot, he found out about Sefa's betrayal. He had always felt there was more to the story, than just her spying for her father and Morgana. Nothing about her had ever suggested she was the type of person to commit treason. He'd never had any sense about her, as he had with others. Sefa was an unwitting pawn in a dangerous game.

She was so beautiful. Sleeping on the cot, with the glow of the dying fire highlighting her face. His heart melted. He knew, without a doubt he would do anything for her. Merlin thought over his own history, growing up without a father, all because of one king. Unlike, Balinor, Merlin knew about his child. He would do whatever he could to protect both Liliane and her mother.

Also, different from his father, Merlin wasn't afraid to use his magic to do it.

Tentatively, he reached out and with one calloused finger, he brushed aside a lock of auburn hair, that had fallen over her cheek.

Green eyes fluttered open, to catch him staring at her. He grinned, and she smiled softly in return. He could see the question in her features, wondering if he knew what would happen to her.

"The queen is going to hold court tomorrow to decide your fate." He said, pushing past the sudden lump in his throat.

Sefa nodded sadly, and looked away. Her lips pursed together firmly. Alice, Percival, and Merlin had given her hope, but the uncertainty still frightened her. Merlin was able to see the thoughts playing out in her eyes.

"I have faith in Gwen..." He paused and took a breath, finding the determination deep in his soul to carry out his threat. "If...if it comes to it, we will leave here. All three of us, and go somewhere they can't reach us. I will protect you both."

The tightness around her mouth and eyes eased, and she allowed him to see how much she trusted his words with the faintest of smiles.

Merlin couldn't have stopped himself, even if he wanted to, as he wrapped his fingers around the base of her neck and pulled her gently closer, while he leaned in. Their lips met chastely at first. Tiny kisses, light as a butterflies' wings, danced between them. With each beat they became stronger, applying a bit more pressure, until he finally pulled back.

Her eyes watched him, as he removed his jacket, belt, and boots. Wiggling backwards, she made room for him on the small bed. He lifted the blanket, and stretched out next to her, his hand came to rest on her hip, while he tucked his other arm under his head, like a pillow.

They resumed their gentle kissing, accompanied by feathered caresses of their fingers, as they began exploring each other's bodies…Hesitant and chaste at first; brushing along shoulders, arms and hips. He pressed his lips to hers, and his tongue began to tease along the space between hers. She opened to him, allowing him to explore the recesses of her mouth;teasing and enticing him into giving her more.

Merlin's hand clenched on her hip, pulling her closer. He pressed his growing length against her pelvis. Her hands threaded through his dark mop of hair, refusing to release him from their kiss, as she shifted so he could roll on top of her.

He braced himself above her, freeing his other arm to begin exploring her body more. He flattened his palm over her collarbone and carefully pushed the shoulder of her nightshift down her arm. Forcing himself away from her mouth, he trailed kisses along her jawline towards her ear.

She sucked in a breath when his lips wrapped around the lobe and he started to suckle on it. The hot breath from his nostrils was a comforting sound in her ear. Sefa's hands caressed his shoulders,and her fingernails dug lightly into his shirt. She pressed her lips to his neck, to muffle the soft moans she wanted to release.

Sefa gasped as his tongue began to trace it's way down her neck and throat, pausing briefly to kiss the hollow of her throat. Using his elbows to keep his weight off of her, his hands mirrored each other, pulling the nightdress off of her shoulders completely, and drawing it down to expose her breasts. She shivered when the cool air teased her nipples, hardening their peaks.

Merlin exhaled forcefully. "Beautiful," he whispered. A smirk formed as he recalled the first time he had ever seen Sefa. He had been with Gwaine, walking through the Lower Town. They had noticed her at the same time, and while Merlin was taking note of her eyes and soft auburn locks, his more worldly friend pointed out the size of her 'melons.' Although, Merlin had punched his companion's shoulder for being so crude, after that, he had also silently taken note of them.

Now, seeing them exposed, he felt his manhood pulsing at the sight. Even taking into account that they were swollen with milk, the fleshy mounds were a much larger than average size. His hands began to massage them, and the hushed sounds from her throat told him she was enjoying it. He took care to be gentle with his exploratory touches, but he noticed how they still seeped slightly.

He brought them together, and buried his face in between them. His tongue teasing circles on her sternum. He released one of the plump round breasts, and brushed his hand along her stomach. His fingers gathered the skirt and pulled it upwards. When it was high enough, he slipped his hand underneath it and caressed her abdomen. He feltthe slight indention of the stretch marks and loose skin still left from her pregnancy. A sense of pride filled him.

Here was a woman who had been through Hell, and was strong enough to carry a child...his child, with little to no assistance. The scars she bore from that were more amazing to behold, than those of any Knight of Camelot.

Kissing his way back up, he paused to nibble on her neck, listening as her breath came faster. There was a tremble of anticipation behind each halting gasp, and he could feel his manhood beginning to weep with an anxious heat. He once again found her lips, and this time his kisses were forceful and passionate. He teased her tongue, drawing it into his mouth, making a game of it.

Merlin's hand moved lower, brushing over the wiry curls until he cupped the space between. Their kisses muffled her soft cry of pleasure, and he moaned excitedly against her.

Finally finding her confidence, Sefa's hands drifted downward, pulling his tunic up just enough to slip her thumbs under the waist of his trousers.

He shifted, and moved his hand to help her untie the lace and push them down far enough to allow his swollen length to taste freedom. Merlin then took one of her hands and guided it to his shaft. Wrapping her hand around it, she smiled against his lips when her soft squeeze made him growl quietly.

Long fingers moved back to the space between her legs and sought out the source of the moisture that had gathered. Fingertips teased around her opening, causing her to writhe a bit, before they slipped inside. She instinctively clenched around them. "Oh, Goddess." He moaned, imagining what something other than his fingers would feel like inside her. It was almost too much.

Working her opening, her tight cavern loosened, and he withdrew his hand. Placing it over hers, he helped her guide him to it. His tip pressed against her folds and he held it there for a moment. His eyes searched hers, to verify he had permission to enter her.

She nodded and whispered her answer. "Yes, please...Merlin...yes."

Pushing up on his hands, he pressed into her. His groan of ecstasy was louder than he expected. She felt so warm and moist and inviting. It drove his senses crazy.

Stifling her own moan of pleasure, she tried to shush him, as she mashed their lips together.

Just the amazing feel of her, taking him into her depths until his head brushed against the wall of her cervix, nearly sent him crashing over the edge. Merlin stopped and tried desperately to control his urge to release. Slowly, he began a rhythmic pumping. In and out, in and out...he breathed her name into her ear.

"Sefa, my Goddess. MY beautiful Goddess..."

She mouthed his name against his neck, and he knew he was almost to his limit. His thrusts became quicker and deeper. She shuddered underneath him, clenching deep inside her core around him.

He released barely a moment after her. A few desperate attempts to continue were thwarted by his softening manhood. Merlin collapsed on top of her, their sweat-soaked skin melding almost into one body, while he tried to catch his breath.

Strength started to return to his limbs, and he pushed himself up to look into her forest green depths. "What's wrong?" He asked, when he noticed the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

She shook her head and smiled, "Nothing. Everything is so perfect right now, Merlin."

He noticed then, that he was crying too. Burying his face in her hair, he clung to her tightly. "I love you, my Goddess…my Sefa."

"I love you, Merlin...my Merlin."

They stayed together for a while afterward, before they finally disentangled from each other, their emotions spent. After their clothing was back in place, he snuggled in behind her. One arm under her head and wrapped around her bosom, the other draped over her hip.

He couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly they fit together, even on the tiny patient cot. Merlin rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at the sleeping form in the makeshift cradle. A chuckle bubbled up, as he realized the little girl had slept soundly throughout her parents' activities.

"I don't think she's ever been so warm and loved...I don't think I have ever been, either." She gripped his arms, as they tightened around her.

He kissed her shoulder. "I will do everything I can to ensure that it stays that way, and you will never have to worry for anything again." He nuzzled against her neck. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

 


	8. Yule, Part 7 of 8

She knelt on the cold stone floor. It was a surreal sensation of déja vu, once again awaiting her sentencing. This time, however, there was a man standing next to his queen on the dais, who had her best interests at heart.

Alice was taking care of Liliane. Sefa was so grateful for the matronly, old healer. It felt like she had found a woman willing to fill the hole in her life, that had been left from not having grown up with a mother.

"Sefa." The queen began. "Almost two years ago, you were here before me, facing your crimes as a traitor to Camelot. You passed vital information concerning the movements of my late husband, which in turn led to the capture and death of several Knights of the Round Table. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Her eyes flitted briefly upward, catching her lover's. He gave her the barest of nods. She had told him the truth about what happened, as they had laid together, basking in the glow of the fire. Merlin had thought it would be a wise course to explain just what she had told him, to the queen.

"Your Majesty." Her voice trembled with anxiety. "I had written to my father, a druid, to tell him of my employment in the castle. I did not know, at the time, that he was working for Morgana. I overheard King Arthur and the others speaking about going west through Caerleon.

"At the time, I was a young girl and rather smitten by a man who would be accompanying them. I had told my father about him, and in his letter to me, he asked if the young man was travelling. I didn't realize at the time, that my response to my father would lead to the ambush of the King's company..."

* * *

 

"I see." Guinevere nodded and glanced to her left. She saw the slightest hint of a blush coloring Merlin's cheeks. The queen's attention was brought back to the gathered crowd, when she heard a man snicker. She didn't have to guess who it came from. "Sir Geraint, you have something to add?"

The ruddy knight started to open his mouth, but the glare Gwen shot him stated plainly that if it didn't have any actual bearing on Sefa's confession, he would pay dearly for any comments later. "No, My Lady." He turned his scowl at Sefa.

The queen bit her tongue when she saw him flinch. It almost looked as if he had been slapped on the back of his head, the way he nearly stumbled forward. She didn't have to guess to know that Merlin's eyes had briefly changed color. "Please continue." She instructed the young woman before her.

Sefa continued her recount of the events leading up to her father's death, and her escape into the forest.

Gwen closed her eyes for a moment. On one hand, laid the financial stability of her kingdom; on the other her longest friend's chance at happiness. In all the time she had known him, he had never shown interest in any girl, as far as she knew...except, perhaps Morgana, when he first came to Camelot. He'd never even hinted that there was ever anyone else. She wondered if she hadn't already been queen at the time, if she might have noticed his interest in Sefa.

Internally, she shook her head. Chances were, she wouldn't have. He may have been her closest and oldest friend, but her royal station kept her from being a good one to him. The last thing she wanted to do was to alienate him from the kingdom, and from her life. She owed him at least that much. "When you knelt before me last time, I sentenced you to hang for your crimes. I had no intention of carrying through with that, as it was a ruse to draw your father out, and make him accountable for his crimes against my husband's kingdom.

"Your father paid with his life, in aiding your escape. However, I cannot let you go completely unpunished, no matter how naive you were. Taking that into consideration, I believe I can afford to be somewhat lenient in this situation. Sefa, I am sentencing you to exile. You must not set foot in Camelot again, on pain of death. Do you understand?"

Sefa nodded, "Thank you, Majesty. It is more than I could ask for."

"Merlin will escort you to the border of the kingdom, to ensure your sentence is carried out." Gwen motioned to her friend. She was amazed at how he was able to keep a straight face. She knew it wasn't the best scenario he would have hoped for, but she prayed it would be enough to satisfy all those concerned.

* * *

 

Merlin barely contained himself, but he was able to keep his composure, as he guided Sefa back to the Physician's Chamber. A part of him was grateful that Gwen hadn't followed through with the death sentence, but another was fuming. After all that he had done for the kingdom, his love...the mother of his child...wasn't to be allowed in it.

"How did it go?" Gaius asked, pouncing on the young couple the moment they entered.

"She's banishing Sefa." The angry tone in his voice made it clear what his thoughts were on the matter.

The young woman turned and place a hand on his forearm.

He sighed in resignation and drew her into his arms. "I will just have to go with you."

"Merlin, you can't!" The old man protested, "Your destiny is here...in Camelot."

"My destiny  _was_  to Arthur, Gaius." He snapped back. "My future is with my family. Gwen wants me to escort Sefa to the border...I think the queen knows, I do not plan on returning."

"Oh." Gaius sank to his bench. He folded his hands in his lap, and nodded sadly. "Well then, you must do what you think is best. I will miss you, my boy."

"You'd best go pack your things and ready a horse or two." Alice said, coming up to them with a smile on her face. Liliane was bouncing against the older woman's shoulder.

Tiny twig-like arms flailed towards her mother. Sefa took the girl and hugged her close. "We're going to be alright Liliane. You hear that? Your father is going to take care of us."

Merlin sniffed loudly, fighting back his tears. He pulled Sefa back to him, engulfing both his girls. Kissing the tops of each of their heads, and whispering his love for them. "I'll be back."

"I'll send for a servant, to ready your horse." Gaius offered, and received a smile of thanks, in return.

* * *

 

"Where will you go?" The question was asked before he had even closed the door, upon entering his chambers.

He suppressed a sigh and pressed his forehead to the wood. "Where will I go..." he echoed.

"I suppose I already know the answer to that, don't I?"

Merlin turned around and offered his queen a tight-lipped smile. He shrugged, and began moving about the room, packing up some of his belongings.

"You don't plan on coming back?" There was a sadness in her voice that he wasn't expecting.

He realized suddenly, just how much the Crown had cost her. She was the daughter of a blacksmith and a maid. She, herself, had been a maid for years. Her family was gone...mother, father, brother...husband. Now, she must have felt like she was losing him, too. "If you need me to return, you can always send for me, but...I..."

"I wish there was another way, Merlin."

"Me, too." He told his queen.

They looked at each other for what seemed like minutes, unsure of what else they could say to each other.

Gwen shook her head in resignation.

As she was leaving, he stopped her and pulled her into a hug. He knew he was being unfair. She had the weight of the kingdom on her shoulders, and had done the best she could under the circumstances. One woman, whose poor decision years earlier, was threatening the kingdom now. Banishment, not death, was both the price and the gift, meant as a gesture of peace to both sides. "I'll come back in the spring to check on things."

She nodded against his chest and tried to smile. "Thank you."

 


	9. Yule, Part 8 of 8

Three days later, the horse crested the final hill over the White Mountain, just as dusk was falling on the longest night of the year. He thought it appropriate, that he should come back to the place of his birth, on the night celebrating the anniversary of his rebirth.

Merlin smiled to himself. "It won't be long now." He called back to the woman on the horse. To ease the burden, he'd been leading the creature for most of the way. It was laden with extra bags of food, and a few furs, courtesy of the queen. The horse also carried the most precious treasure Merlin had ever possessed. Glancing back, his grin widened...'Two most precious treasures.' He corrected himself.

Most of the homes were dark, when they finally arrived in the small town. Merlin tied the horse to a post, and assisted Sefa to the ground. Taking her hand, he guided her to the door of a house near the center of town. He rapped lightly on the door, and waited.

Soft candlelight fell through the door, when it opened a crack. "Yes?" A woman's voice asked tentatively. Her blue eyes blinked in the dim light. For a moment she paused, trying to discern if she was dreaming. Then, she threw the door open and gathered her son into her arms. "Oh, my boy! I haven't seen you in so long!"

"Hello, Mother." Merlin returned her embrace vigorously.

"Come in. Come in!" She said, preparing to drag him into the house.

He held back for a moment and looked over his shoulder. Hunith's eyes followed him to the woman bundled in a cloak behind him. "Mother, this is Sefa."

"Well, you are more than welcome to come in, too. Both of you, out of the cold now."

It felt good to be home. He noticed the traditional Yule Log set on the table, with a large candle burning in the center. It was to burn all night long, in order to welcome the sun's return to the world the following morning, when the days would once again, start growing longer. Midwinter...even though there were still months of storms ahead of them, had always signified a chance for change and renewal. Merlin embraced that thought, as he untied his cloak and began helping Sefa with hers.

* * *

 

Hunith busied herself, stoking the fire and lighting a few extra candles. Her sharp eyes didn't miss how her son was so gentle with the young woman. She smirked and thought it was about time he found someone. She nearly dropped the log she was feeding into the hearth, when the distinctive cry of an infant pierced the air.

Spinning around, her eyes widened. Her hands flew to her mouth to cover her gasp of shock. "Merlin...is that?"

"A baby?" His face was filled with more joy than she had seen from him in years. He stepped over to her, a bundle of blankets in his arms. "Mother, I'd like you to meet your granddaughter, Liliane."

She squealed and reached for the small child. "Liliane. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Hunith pulled the girl close to her, and fell immediately into old habits of babbling and cooing. "Oh, Merlin, why didn't you ever tell me!"

She looked up at her son and the young woman he had brought. Sefa shifted nervously on her feet. The young woman's lips were pursed and Hunith could tell she was holding her breath.

"I didn't know about her, until less than a week ago." Merlin stated plainly. He put his arm around Sefa.

Hunith evaluated them both for a moment. "So...you're not married then?"

"Mother?!" Merlin chided and drew the young woman closer to him.

Laughing, Hunith's eyes sparkled. "Oh you know I'm only teasing you. " She saw Sefa's tension ease slightly. "Merlin's father and I were only together for a short time. I had to raise him all on my own."

"You did a fine job." Sefa said, finally finding her voice in the foreign environment. She looked at Merlin, and he back at her.

"I'm glad though, that my son will get the chance his father never did...to know such a sweet, little angel."

"I need to go take care of the horse. Will you ladies be alright?" He asked, pulling his cloak back over his shoulders.

Hunith waved him off. "On your way back, make sure you grab the manger out of the goat shed."

"The manger?" He asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair.

"Yes, it's good enough for babes in stories, and it was good enough for you, when you were Liliane's age." She turned to Sefa. "Sometimes those tales in the books the monks speak from, have very practical ideas."

Sefa giggled, beginning to feel very much at home.

* * *

 

The straw pallet, covered with a blanket, was more comfortable than any feather bed Sefa could imagine. Merlin dozed lightly at her side, an arm wrapped around her protectively. Liliane had thoroughly enjoyed the spoiling that her new-found grandmother had lavished upon her, and was sleeping in the manger, set close to the fire.

It was a dream come true. Was it only days ago, she had worried about even surviving the winter? Now, her future seemed as bright as the coming dawn. Like the days following the Winter Solstice, the light in her heart could only grow.

 

 


	10. Imbloc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another year has passed. Merlin and Sefa are finally committing to each other, but a vision in the ashes could change their plans for their future

_“Blessed Bridget comest thou in_  
 _Bless this house and all of our kin_  
 _From the source of Infinite Light_  
 _Kindle the flame of our spirits tonight”*_  
  
Her voice was soft and clear, while she sung the words of the incantation. Sitting on the woven mats of straw in front of the hearth, her hands were wrapping the water-softened corn husk and silk together. Nearby, a young girl with obsidian hair made more of a mess, than a corn doll, with her supplies. Blue eyes would look up at her mother’s hands, watching with utter fascination, attempting to mimic the movements with her short fingers, as her voice hummed a monotone harmony to the song.  
  
Sefa smiled encouragingly at Liliane. She glanced up, as the door to the small cottage opened. Merlin came in, carrying a load of chopped wood. His black hair, the same color as the little girl’s, was longer, and tied back at the nape of his neck with a leather strap. Some of it had fallen loose, and framed his high cheekbones and startling blue eyes.  
  
She continued singing, while she finished the doll she was working on, before setting it next to the Bridget’s Cross she had made earlier from reeds. A prayer had been woven into each piece; every strand carried a whisper of hope for the coming year. It was hard to decide what she wanted, as her green eyes drifted to her daughter, and then to the man who had given her everything her heart desired.  
  
She had a beautiful life and a wonderful family, that included not just the three of them, but Merlin’s mother, as well. It was a bittersweet, though, as she cast her eyes around the tiny hovel The one room cottage had become a home to them all, but changes in boundaries and kingdoms had brought about a transition in their lives. Ealdor was no longer within the borders of Essetir.   
  
Sefa’s youth had been that of a nomad; travelling with a father who was once a warrior druid, from the clan that guarded the sacred sites of the Goddess, for the priestesses. Her own mother had been one of the last priestesses, according to her father. When she had arrived in Camelot, years before, it was the first time Sefa had ever settled down for any length of time, even though that was relatively short lived. The past year was the longest she had stayed in one place.  
  
The memories of her old life had faded as the new ones...the ones Merlin had unknowingly set in motion, when they had lain together under the Samhain Moon...began to take precedence in her thoughts.   
  
“Are you ready?” He asked, after crouching down to add another log, and stoke the fire for the night.   
  
Reaching up, she brushed a stray lock of his dark hair behind his ear. He smiled, with his eyes half-closed, and leaned into her touch. His face turned and his lips touched her palm. She felt a shiver of anticipation for what was to come.  
  
“I am.” Her voice was soft when she spoke.   
  
“We won’t be returning here, tonight.” Merlin reminded her. He rubbed a gentle hand along her back.  
  
All she could do was nod.   
  


* * *

_One year prior..._  
  
Merlin had returned to Camelot the previous spring, just as he had promised Gwen he would, only to find that the great kingdom was facing war with Essex. The King of Essex, who had claimed much of Essetir...including the small village of Ealdor...after Cenred’s demise, was out for vengeance for the blood of his father, spilled decades ago by King Uther. The why and how of his sudden interest in Camelot mattered little. Either he felt the kingdom had been weakened by the absence of the Pendragons, or more than likely, it was the queen’s refusal in taking him as a husband.  
  
A marriage would have made sense politically, and had Gwen been born a noble, she might have considered it. As it was, however, the Queen of Camelot declined.   
  
Under Leon’s guidance and expertise commanding the army, Gwen had ridden out to meet the King of Essex in the battlefield. Merlin, though reluctant to be separated from his family, had been by her side, along with the Queen’s Guard, led by Sir Percival.  
  
The battles had lasted throughout the spring and into the summer months, coming within a hair’s breadth of the remote village. Sefa had clung tightly to her daughter and to Hunith, as they watched from the nearby hills. The rise of smoke from hundreds of campfires, and the cries of men in battle, echoed through the valleys.   
  
When all was said and done, Camelot had been victorious. Much of the credit was given to Merlin and his magic, who in the heat of battle had turned the tide. Even the awful Sir Geraint was personally saved by the warlock.   
  
For all he had done, Guinevere had bestowed upon Merlin the lands and a title; Lord over the small region he called home. At first, Sefa was fearful. She loved the area, and the people of the village, who had welcomed her into their folds easily. Her status within Camelot, as a traitor in exile, worried her. She didn’t want to be forced from the only place that had ever really felt like home.   
  
When Merlin had returned in time for the harvest, he carried with him a missive from the queen. “It’s a pardon...” He had said. “...For my wife.”  
  
“Too bad you don’t have one.” She commented casually, even though her heart was pounding in delight at his unspoken words. Merlin was not a man to come out and state his feelings plainly. While he whispered his love to her in the depths of night...as they laid side-by-side...in the light of day, he was much more cautious with his words. Much of the time, it came out as sarcasm and cheek.  
  
“Hmm. True. Perhaps I should ask to marry one of the tanner’s daughters.”  
  
“Go right ahead. I’ve had my eye on that trapper that comes through town occasionally.”  
  
“The trapper? Gruffy ol’ Syrus? Well, if that is really what you want...” He sighed mournfully. “I suppose he might take care of you, but I’m not sure I want Liliane to be smelling of musk from the weasels he skins...And you know she would, too. She loves anything that stinks.”  
  
Sefa was washing their bedding in a leaky, wooden tub at the time. “Well, I hear his furs are nice and warm. Otherwise, if you don’t want our daughter around such things, I suppose you might just have to marry me yourself.”  
  
He had swept her up in his arms, causing a splash of water, as the stone she was using to scrub with, fell back into the water. His lips crushed against hers in a mixture of passion and possession. “I accept.”  
  
“Wait...did you just trick me into proposing to you?”   
  
With a twinkle in his eyes, he had released her and backed away, grinning....until he tripped over a clod of dirt, pushed up by a mole.  
  
The season passed. They had celebrated Liliane’s first birthday together, before Merlin had to return to Camelot for a spell. He had then returned to Ealdor, in time for the mid-season harvest.  
  
After the crops were brought in, the villagers of Ealdor had set to work in helping to build a house for their new lord. While some, used to the autonomy that had been their way of life for so long, balked against the change, many more had welcomed the protection that having a noble nearby would grant them. Especially when he was one they knew; a man who had once brought the Prince of Camelot to assist them against a band of ruffians. Every chance throughout the winter, when they had been offered a break from the rains and occasional snows...being so close to the White Mountain...they had worked side-by-side to construct the new home.   
  
Now it was complete, but Merlin had refused to allow Sefa to look inside. “Not until you give me a date.” He had stood his ground, and tried to convince her at least every other day, that it was time for them to be handfasted. She had been stubborn, as well, and refused to give in to his many suggestions.  
  
Merlin had wanted to speak their vows during the final harvest of Samhain, but Sefa wanted no part of that. She clung to the beliefs her father had taught her. Samhain was a night for lost souls, and a time to honor those who had died through the previous year, when crops and life offered no time for proper mourning.  
  
Reluctantly, he had agreed. Yule came and went. They had celebrated the wonderful year they had been given since reuniting, and still she had put off his request. As Imbolc approached, she knew it was time. Bridget, the Maiden Goddess, was honored on that day. It was a celebration of love and of home; a time when the God and Goddess were reunited in the Wheel of the Year.   
  
It was a time for a final celebration; for families to spend time together relaxing and enjoying one another, because soon, life would become busy again. The milk of the ewes were beginning to drip, and within days they would give birth to their lambs. Farmers waited anxiously for signs that the ground was ready to sow. Life moved on, after the winter’s rest.  
  


* * *

_Imbolc Eve..._  
  
  
She was interrupted from her thoughts, by the sounds of horses outside.  
  
Liliane gasped and waddled toward the door on chubby little legs, eager to see the ‘ponies.’ Merlin followed his daughter, sweeping her up in his arms, before heading out to greet the visitors.  
  
Sefa looked around her at the mess left from her and Liliane’s crafts with a sigh.  
  
“I’ll take care of this. As the soon-to-be Lady of Ealdor, you need to be by my son’s side when he greets the guests.”  
  
“How do you know so much about the ways of Court, Hunith?” Sefa asked, and not for the first time. On many occasions since she had come to live here, she often wondered about the older woman’s history.   
  
Merlin’s mother would smile fondly, and tactfully change the subject. This time it was a bit different, and Sefa could sense the change in her future mother-in-law. “Perhaps someday I will tell you, but we don’t have the luxury of time now. Go and stand at my son’s side. I will make sure the offerings are ready for you tonight.”  
  


* * *

Percival chuckled lightly. It had been a few weeks since he had seen his friend, but he wouldn’t have missed this celebration for anything. He knew both Gwaine and Lancelot would have been first in line to congratulate Merlin on his relatively new status, and his marriage. More than likely, Gwaine would have been sure to arrive the night before, just to take Merlin out and get him completely drunk in a pre-celebratory celebration. It had been almost two years since he had said goodbye to one of his best friends, and over six since the true Lancelot had sacrificed himself. Shaking his head to rid himself of the sadness, he turned to Merlin. “Nervous, are you?”  
  
The jittery, pacing footsteps paused. “No.” Merlin said, too quickly. His blue eyes danced around the open space in the center of town. People were gathering, and the weather...with a little bit of magical persuasion...was clear and calm. The area around the well was decorated with clooties* and Brigid’s Crosses, as offerings to the Old Ways.   
  
Twisting his hands, Merlin’s breath came in short gasps. Percival simply laughed again, as Merlin’s pacing picked back up.   
  
The druid leader, Iseldir, soon joined them. His calming smile sent a wave of peace through the anxious bridegroom.   
  
Merlin sent him a look of gratitude. By some unspoken sign of the universe, Iseldir had known exactly when to arrive and offer his services to officiate the handfasting.   
  
“Look sharp.” Leon said, nodding his head down the street. He had been standing nearby with the others at the well. His lips tightened into a secretive smile at the lady leading the procession.  
  
Spinning around, Merlin’s heart came to a standstill. Coming from down the dirt lane, was the bride’s party. Guinevere led the group, and blocked the view of the woman he wanted to see. He was thankful that the queen had been able to make the journey for this ceremony. Their relationship had been like the ebb and flow of the tide, since Arthur’s passing. After the war with Essex, they had finally found themselves back to a place of friendship.   
  
Glancing over at Leon, Merlin figured the First Knight of Camelot might have had something to do with it, as well.  
  
As she neared, Gwen stepped aside. Behind her, in a simple dress of pale blues and greens, was a vision of loveliness. Her hair had been woven by the queen’s own handmaiden, with white blossoms from the blackthorn bush entwined in its auburn strands. Ever since they had met in the palace, she had never ceased to take Merlin’s breath away.   
  
He held out his hands to her. She joined him, and together they stood before Iseldir.   
  
The druid spoke the ancient words of blessing, as he tied their hands together with a silk ribbon. After which, they walked sunwise around the well three times, honoring each aspect of the Triple Goddess. On the third rotation, Merlin reached out, as he passed his mother, and took Liliane with his free arm. They stopped in front of Iseldir again, and Merlin shared the first kiss with his new wife.  
  


* * *

_“Blessed Bridget come into thy bed_  
 _With a gem at thy heart and a crown on thy head_  
 _Awaken the fire within our souls_  
 _Awaken the fire that makes us whole” *_  
  
The villagers were still celebrating around the bonfire, when Merlin threaded the fingers of his left hand, still bound at the wrist, to Sefa’s right one. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back softly. “Shall we adjourn to our new home?”  
  
Nodding, she allowed him to help her climb over the bench. Children danced and sung songs to Brigid. The Goddess was one of the few who transcended between the Old and the New, welcoming all, as they prepared to welcome the spring.  
  
They passed by Hunith, and Sefa placed a kiss on the brow of the little girl, sound asleep in her grandmother’s arms. She knew Hunith would soon retire to her small hovel, with Liliane.   
  
Merlin pushed open the door of the new house; different from the short earth and sod dwellings of the village. It was grand in comparison. She and Merlin had both argued with the villagers that it was too big...too indulgent...but, it was Hunith who pointed out that it needed to be, to distinguish it from the others. The mystery around the woman deepened, the more Sefa knew her.  
  
Scooping her up in his arms, Merlin carried her across the threshold into the dwelling. They moved to the main hearth, and together they built the first fire, bringing warmth into their home. Nearby, Sefa saw the crosses she had made earlier in the day.   
  
Cradling each cross gently, she passed one to Merlin, and kept the other for herself. Together they placed them onto the fire. The flames would be allowed to burn themselves out before morning, and in the ashes, Sefa would look for the signs of the year to come. Once it was done, and words were spoken to the flames, Merlin led her towards the stairs.  
  
“Can’t I have a look around the rest of the house?” She asked with a pout.  
  
“You can explore to your heart’s delight in the morning, my love...my wife.” He stepped behind her, lifting their joined hands over her head, and wrapped his forearm around her shoulders. He bent over and began to nuzzle her neck, just below her ear.  
  
A soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She sank back against him, her eyes fluttering closed.   
  
A few moments passed before he unwrapped his arm from around her. They could hear the songs still being sung outside, as he led her up the narrow staircase to the solitary room on the upper floor. She was greeted by a magnificent sight.  
  
“A real bed?” Sefa gasped. Never in her life had she dared to dream she would be privileged to such a luxury. Thick canvas, strung between four posts, held a mattress filled with wool and straw. A thin down-filled pad covered the top, and new quilts were folded across the foot.   
  
Merlin took their joined hands. His eyes never left her face. His eyes glowed with a fiery passion, as well as magic, when he unwound the binding on their wrists. Markings appeared; so light against her skin. They could only be seen if a person knew what they were looking for. On his own arm was a set that matched hers.  
  
She shivered as the last circle unwound, and watched as the ribbon fluttered to the floor.  
  
Merlin stepped closer, bending his head down and capturing her lips. His kiss made her heart flutter. Though they had been intimate many times before, she felt as nervous as a maiden. Opening her mouth to his, she took in his tongue as he began to explore her depths. Just as she was about to reciprocate, his lips broke away and left steaming kisses along her jaw to her ear. His heated breath sent a course of shivers through her. His soft moans in her ear, made her heart beat faster.  
  
  
Calloused fingertips traced the outline of her bodice, brushing across the tops of her breasts and settling in between where the laces were gathered. Goose bumps rose on the skin of her arms when her earlobe was suddenly exposed to the cooler air.  
  
His tongue licked her skin along her neck, tasting the salt on her skin, perfumed with rosemary and lavender. He inhaled deeply, as his faced reached his hands. He took the longest strand in his teeth, his breath channeling down between her cleavage. His fingers began pulling apart the loosened bodice, his hands cupping around the outsides of her large breasts through the thin chemise she wore. As the thick restraints of the bodice fell away, they settled heavily in his hands.   
  
Dropping the tie, he buried his face in her ample bosom. Large, slightly darker circles showed through the fabric, and nipples the size of his little fingertip stood erect underneath. Grasping them between his thumb and forefinger, he pinched them both playfully, garnering a squeak of surprise.   
  
Through his trousers she grasped his hardening length and squeezed tightly in retaliation, while pressing her breasts against his hands, silently asking for more. In Hunith’s house, with Liliane, they were passionate, but it was kept soft, sweet, and quiet for the most part. Only the occasional escape to the caves nearby allowed them to explore and experiment.   
  
Before they had come together in healing, neither had known anyone else. Every time they coupled, was new and exciting, and they weren’t afraid to test new ideas.  
  
Merlin groaned, deep in his throat, when her hand began to rub him through the fabric of his trousers. He looked up into her eyes and knew he never wanted another woman.   
  
She stepped back, and released him. Sliding her hands up her own body, she untied her skirts, and let them fall to the floor. Rubbing up over her hips, he stood mesmerized. When she reached her shoulders she slipped the fabric off her arms  
  
He moved his hands and began to help her, but she grabbed them and placed them back on her now naked breasts, encouraging him to continue with what he had been doing moments before. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing her naked beauty to him.   
  
She then began untying his trousers and shifting them off of his narrow hips, exposing his rigid shaft.  
  
With his trousers around his knees, he held her firm nipples tightly, and with a playful smirk began leading her towards the bed by pulling on them. When his knees felt it behind him, he sat back, at perfect eye level with the large bountiful melons. He pressed his face in between them and pushed them together with his hands, flicking and massaging the nipples roughly with his thumbs.   
  
Sefa straddled one of his thighs and proceeded to rub herself against the course leg hair on the solid muscle.  
  
He felt her damp warmth and could smell her arousal as she marked him. Turning his head to the side, he inhaled deeply of her scent. He lifted one of her sizable boobs and placed his mouth over her areola, flicking his tongue across nipple.  
  
She gasped, realizing how much more heightened the sensations were after being pinched so hard. It was an amazing mixture of pain and pleasure, and she wanted more. Grasping the back of his head she pulled him towards her, and he sucked harder, raking his teeth over the fleshy goodness. One of his hands mimicking his mouth on her other breast and she ground her sex across his leg, nearly bringing herself to a small climax.   
  
Pulling back from him, her nipple finally released from his mouth with a reluctant pop. She could see the angry red skin surrounding her dark circle, but she didn’t care. Standing, Sefa pushed his shoulders backwards.  
  
He half-crawled backwards, kicking out of his trousers, with her help, and peeling his shirt off over his head. He tossed it carelessly to the floor and reached for her.   
  
Sefa stood just out of his reach, smiling coyly and shaking her head.  
  
He glared at her, his eyes smoldering with heat and need.  
  
Soft hands slid up his legs, as she began to crawl on top of him. The weight of her breasts pulling downward and dragging them over his shins and his thighs. When her face was even with his crotch, she grasped his rod and began to massage it.  
  
He moaned her name loudly, his head falling back on the bed. His hips bucked uncontrollably when her tongue caressed the creases of his tip. Her hand carefully pulled the skin down, exposing his head like a secret present that was just for her. He hissed and grasped the sheet on both sides of him as his most sensitive area was exposed.   
  
He fought against a wave of dizziness from the sudden overwhelming sensations when her mouth covered the naked head of his erection. “Goddess, Sefa!” He cried, thrusting upwards.  
  
She smiled and slid her lips over him, her tongue teasing him to the brink of insanity. He gasped and cried out in nonsensical pleas, asking her to stop and begging her for more.   
  
She felt the tension building and released him to the cool air. He whimpered in disappointment, before he felt the warmth of her breasts wrapping his shaft in her deep cleavage. Merlin raised his head and watched as his glistening manhood slid between her breasts.   
  
“Enough.” He groaned hoarsely. Sitting up, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her up onto the bed fully. She spread her legs over his lap, resting her outer folds on his length. He rocked his hips, his cock sliding in between the soft skin and coarse hair of her nether region.  
  
Her soft moan of gentle pleasure was not what he wanted to hear, not after the torture she had just put him through. Holding her around her back, he leaned away, and slipped a hand in between them, his fingers wiggled their way into her hot well of passion. One finger at first, testing the tightness and depth.   
  
“Goddess, you are wet.” He grinned with excitement.  
  
Two fingers, stretching her and reaching deeper inside, his palm was facing up, and he curled his fingers inside her.  
  
She gasped and tightened around him.   
  
His thumb found her hardened nub and he worked it roughly in tandem with his fingers, trying to bring them together through the walls of her. Slipping in and out and not relenting. He watched her face, kissed her neck, leaned awkwardly down to take her unmarked nipple, taut and hard, chewing it between his teeth. The movement twisted his fingers inside her and she stiffened as the pleasure hit her. It was so much, she cried out in release, and spilled her juices into his hand.  
  
The slapping sound of wet skin pulsing against her flesh nearly drove him over the edge. He released her breast and grinned triumphantly at the mark he had left.   
  
She whimpered when his pause to admire his handy work took too long.  
  
“Do you want more?” He teased, feeling his own need pulsing between them, he fought it back, wanting nothing more than make his new wife melt.  
  
“Uh huh...” She managed to moan, gripping his shoulders tightly.  
  
Sefa gasped in surprise when he whispered a spell, his eyes glowing a deep lustful gold.   
  
He began stroking inside her again with his curving fingertips. She felt a tingling sensation with each pass. His thumb practically vibrated against her already sensitive clitoris. Crying his name she soaked him with her orgasms. He didn’t stop, his fingers and thumb drove her over the edge again and again. He could feel her shaking. Her entire body a mess of unhinged nerves. Again he brought her to climax. Her scream of passion was a glorious sound in his ears.  
  
Easing back with his thumb, he allowed her barely a moment to catch her gasping breath before he sank three fingers into her. Forcing her tightly clenched walls to widen.  
  
“Merlin...Please...God...I need...”  
  
“Say it...”  
  
“I need...I need you.”  
  
The words were like music to him. He pulled his hand out and lifted her slightly. Merlin positioned the head of his erection at her opening. She sank down on him at the same moment he thrust up inside of her, burying his sword to the hilt in one swift, hard move.  
  
The next morning...  
  
Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains and fell across her face, warming the final moments of her dreams. Sefa couldn’t remember a time when she had slept so well, and in such comfort. Her hand caressed the feather bed underneath her. Love for the bed and the man who gave it to her, flowed through her naked body. Rolling over, she opened her eyes, squinting against the daylight to see him still sleeping soundly beside her.   
  
With a contented smile, she slipped out of the bed reluctantly. Every muscle in her body ached, but no complaint would pass her lips, as the cause had brought so much unbelievable pleasure.  
  
She bit her lip in anticipation, when she spied a wardrobe against the wall opposite the bed. Combing her fingers through her mess of auburn locks, she padded softly over to it.  
  
Sefa’s hands flew to her mouth, covering her gasp of surprise at the clothing inside. While Merlin slept on, she chose a dress the color of lilacs. The material was softer than anything she had ever owned. The sleeves flared at the elbow, falling in a bell shape over her forearms and down to her wrists. Thankfully, they were not long enough, or wide enough, to interfere with daily life. She found a soft linen slip to wear underneath, she slid the dress over her head. In a drawer, she found a wide belt of pale green, embroidered with dark blue flowers. After adjusting it, she tightened it to hold up her bosom. She closed the wardrobe, and looked around the room some more.  
  
Her husband...by the Goddess, she loved how that sounded in her head. Whispering the words out loud, they sounded even more beautiful “...My husband...” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the twittering giggle from escaping.   
  
A mirror of polished metal, which she recognized from the former Lady Morgana’s chambers at Camelot, stood beside a dressing table. On the table, sat a new brush and two silver combs for her hair. Her face was filled with delight. Sefa picked up the brush and looked around the room again. There were a few items that had been brought over from Hunith’s, and a chest of drawers. She fear exploring the room further, not wanting to wake Merlin.  
  
Slipping out the door, she hummed at the sensation of the soft bristles working the knots out of her hair, while she made her way downstairs. Her thighs quivered from the exhausting activities of the previous night. Three...no, four times...Each one was different and pleasurable, in ways neither of them had known existed. Sefa had a feeling it was his magic that helped him rise to each occasion, long after she thought they were both beyond exhaustion. She closed her eyes and licked her lips, recalling a couple other things he had done with his magic, that had gone far beyond her imagination.  
  
Reaching the bottom landing, she was delighted to explore every nook and cranny. A large harvest table was set in the main room with the main hearth. The surface had been polished with sand until it was smooth as glass, and oiled until it shined. At the end of the room, opposite the fire, was a door that lead to what she assumed would be either Liliane’s room, or Hunith’s...if they could convince her to move out of the earthen hovel.  
  
Across from the main door at the front of the house, was a smaller one that led to another room, set at an angle off the back of the main house. It was sunk halfway into the ground, and she had to step down carefully, feeling the strain in her knees. “We will need steps for that.” She said softly, and then giggled, “Especially, if there are going to be more nights like last night.”  
  
The room was obviously for storage. There were barrels of water and flagons of wine. Sturdy earthenware bowls accompanied metal plates, pots and other cooking utensils. She found a few half-filled bushels of grains and fruits, obviously moved over from what had been left at Hunith's.   
  
“A real pantry...” She shook her head in wonder.  
  
“A real pantry.” A voice behind her agreed.  
  
Sefa spun around.  
  
Merlin was leaning against the doorframe, with nothing on but his trousers and a smile.  
  
She laughed, “A real pantry.”  
  
“A real house, too.”  
  
“...With a real bed.”  
  
“...And a real wife for me to share it with.”  
  
She crossed her arms and stared at him. “A real wife? I suppose you have a lot of fake ones then, back in Camelot.”  
  
He grinned mischievously. “A whole harem of them, in fact.” He stepped down easily into the room, and swept her up in his arms. “...But, you are the only one of them who matters to me.”  
  
Pushing her long, auburn hair over her shoulder, she tried to keep a serious face, but it melted away under the sensuous gaze from his blue eyes. They kissed with a passion that mirrored the night before.  
  
“Mmmm. It’s so tempting to just take you right here in the pantry. I could have a feast.” He breathed hungrily. He began to gather her skirt in his hand.  
  
“I’m sure you could.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and melted into another kiss. He led her out of the pantry. They made it only as far as the stairs going up to their room, before hot passion overtook them.   
  
She fell back with the steps behind her, noticing only then that he had already freed his erection from his trousers. He blew on his fingers, gold filling his eyes. She nearly came with the look alone, but her body had no choice as a shock of pure ecstasy filled her with the briefest of touch from his fingertips against her feminine arousal. She was still gasping and writhing when he entered her. His hot flesh filling her to the brink of insanity. The painful aches from the night adding to the massive overload in her body.   
  
She couldn’t move with him, from the way she was positioned a few steps above him. Her legs spread around him, thighs clenched around his hips as if she were afraid to fall.  
  
He had his way with her, slamming into her again and again. She slipped her hand between them, adding more pressure and teasing her own bundle of nerves. Her voice, already hoarse from her cries of passion the night before, came out in gasps and moans. Her body screamed for release, but she wanted more.   
  
His speed increased, sensing her need, and he groped her breasts through the soft fabric. With a final shudder, he spilled himself inside her, and collapsed on top of her, still kneeling on the stairs.   
  
  
“I don’t think I can move...” He finally admitted breathlessly.  
  
“Well, I know I can’t.” She kissed him and pushed his shoulders back. He rolled off of her with a grunt.  
  
He lounged back on the stairs, his trousers still open.  
  
She giggled and straightened her skirts, leaning against the wall. Her legs felt like mush, as she carefully made her way back down the stairs. “It’s a good thing that it’s customary to not disturb newlyweds the morning after, but, perhaps we should make an appearance sometime today.”  
  
He hummed his agreement, and then groaned again at the thought of moving.  
  
“I’d like to see any of those women in your ‘harem’ even try to keep up with me.” She teased.  
  
Merlin ran a hand through his messy black hair. Sitting up, he, laughed at the idea. “Good thing I lied about that then. I don’t think I could handle even one other woman.” He pulled himself up and readjusted his trousers. “Going to get a shirt.” He commented, practically crawling his way up the stairs.  
  
Sefa cackled with laughter at his melodramatic exit. She made her way over to the darkened fireplace. Tucking her skirt under her knees, she crouched down and began to examine the ash.

* * *

  
Merlin surveyed the room with a smile. He could never have imagined such an amazing first night in their new home. While taking the time to pick up the mess they had made of the bedding, and the clothing that was strewn around, he felt a swell of pride. It had taken a long time to break out of his station, after his destiny with Arthur had been ripped from his grasp.  
  
He was an actual lord now, with his lady, a beautiful child, and now, a proper home for them all. His duty to the Crown was minimized, as Gwen had begun to move on with her own life. While he had nervously awaited his bride, he had still taken notice of the occasional glances Leon was giving the queen. He was happy for them both. Though Leon could never be king, at least, it meant that Gwen was no longer spending every night alone.  
  
Finding a clean blue shirt, he pulled it over his head, and surveyed the room one last time.  
  
He bounded down the stairs, full of energy, only to stop short at the sight before him.  
  
“Sefa?” He asked, approaching her cautiously. Her hand clutched the hearthstones in a white-knuckled grip. “Sefa, what’s wrong?”  
  
Her beautiful green eyes glistened with unshed tears. She stared into the ashes, where the crosses had burned. He didn’t need to be a diviner to see the pattern they had left.  
  
The shape of the Pendragon crest was easy to make out, and surrounding it were the outlines of four men. Their identities were obscured, but Merlin knew instinctively who they were.   
  
Her voice sounded distant. “The Goddess will be calling me soon, to work through me, as she has done before.” She had hesitantly admitted to Merlin to being the last daughter of the Great Rites. She believed it had happened before, and not just during the Samhain that had brought them together. While she was unable to consciously remember the occasions, she was able to feel the effects in her dreams. It scared her, as not all of them were as ultimately pleasant as when she had found Merlin in the woods. During that particular night, with the encouragement of the spirits, and the mask to obscure her identity, the Goddess had allowed her to actively participate.  
  
She often wondered if her father had known, and if that was part of the reason for his nomadic life; an attempt to keep the Shadow of the Goddess from consuming her.  
  
Merlin pulled her away from the fireplace, and gathered her in his arms. HIs heart was torn. He longed for his friends, and his king, to return, but he feared what that would mean for all those he held dear...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Song: Imbolc (Candlemas)  
> Artist: Lisa Thiel  
> Album: Circle Of The Seasons


	11. Ostara, Part 1 of 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's past comes back and he needs to make amends to a young dragon who had been caught in crossfire of the war with Morgana.

_Praise to the Spring, Praise to all living things_

_Praise to the Maiden and the joy that she brings_

_Praise to the Earth let all her creatures now sing_

_Hope is renewed with the coming of the Spring_

_The heart fires are stirring with the new life returning_

_Its time now for learning what rebirth truly means_

_We honor ourselves and all the faeries and elves_

_May we dance and ring bells for the coming of the Spring!_

_~Lisa Theil Song of Ostara._

* * *

"We will be married, Merlin."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"I don't know when they will reappear. Nothing about any prophecy has ever been clear and concise. So, I do understand, Leon. You and Gwen deserve to be happy."

"…But, he is…was…my king." The First Knight of Camelot sighed. The decision was obviously tearing him apart inside. He loved Guinevere; had loved her since they had shared their first kiss together, when he was a young man and she was barely into her teens. Their status in life...his as a noble and her's as a commoner...had kept their relationship from going further than that. For many years, Leon had stood to the side and watched, as his first love had fallen for Lancelot, flirted with Merlin, and blushed at Gwaine's advances to finally end up in the arms of the king.

"Look, do you want me to talk you into this marriage with the Queen, or out of it? You need to make up your mind." Merlin chuckled. After his own wedding to Sefa, and the signs in the fire the following morning, he had gone to Guinevere. Speaking in confidence to her, Leon and Percival about the possibilities of Arthur's return had been difficult. His wife had been at his side, and he let her attempt to explain that the gift of foresight was limited, and while they believed wholeheartedly that it would come to pass, the Goddess had her own way, and timeframe, of doing things. No one could give the Queen an exact time for the return. Nearly a month passed. There had been no other outward signs of Arthur's return and they were becoming anxious.

Guinevere was being pressured into officially naming an heir to the throne. The laws of succession stated that it must be someone within the Royal Family, no matter how distant. Even if she and Leon were to marry and have children of their own, the offspring of their union would inherit Leon's titles, not the kingdom.

A cousin of Arthur's had been found in North Umbria. He was the son of Uther's sister…a woman whom none of them had heard of until recently. He was scheduled to arrive within the month for the official naming. By rights, he could petition Guinevere, as Queen, to marry him. It was not something any of them wanted.

His name was Constantine, and while little else was known about him, Geoffrey had mentioned receiving a letter from a scribe named Gildas years before which had described him as a "tyrannical whelp of the unclean lioness of Damnonia."[1]

"I think you should do it." Merlin finally said, at long last. "Arthur would have wanted her to remarry for love…not for the kingdom...else she would have accepted many of the offers presented to her, and not gone to war. You have known her since she was a child, and it is a good match."

"We have your blessing then?" Leon asked warily. He didn't know why it was so important to him to have Merlin's support, but it felt right. The warlock had become one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, once he was given the opportunity to step out from Arthur's shadow. It almost felt, some days, as if Merlin's opinion was Arthur's. The two men had spent nearly every waking moment together for over a decade. Even years after the king's death, it was sometimes hard to separate the idea of them being two different people.

The smile Merlin gave his friend was sincere. "Yes, you do. I would suggest it take place as soon as possible...before Constantine's arrival, at any rate."

Leon nodded, his dark blond curls bouncing in agreement. "I will speak with the queen, and we will arrange it before the Solstice." The knight began to walk away, obviously anxious to tell Gwen about his conversation. He paused for a moment and turned back to Merlin. "You will be there, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it!" The warlock promised.

* * *

The morning dawned; fresh and crisp, with a layer of frost on the ground. Soft, leather soles of bootie-covered feet crunched loudly across the frozen grasses. By mid-morning, the frost would be gone, and signs of spring would be prominent in the meadows and forests.

Sefa waved to a farmer, near the edge of the small town of Ealdor. He sat under an overhang next to his house, and sharpened his plow blade; preparing it for the season. Liliane was running ahead, absolutely fascinated by the world around her. Sefa moved to catch up to the sprightly little girl, her shirts brushing against the wintry white crust of the world.

The day promised to be a beautiful one for foraging. The fresh fiddlehead ferns, still tightly curled before they unfurled into the larger leaves later in the season, offered a nice fresh change from the diminishing winter supplies, and their rhizomes helped to thicken broths. Bright green nettles, perfect for teas, would help with the coming seasonal allergies from pollens. They were just two of the seasonal herbs she was on the lookout for, along with some sheep's sorrel, whose leaves could make a tangy salad and be eaten freshly picked from the ground, unlike many of the other plants.

Merlin was away on one of his frequent trips to Camelot. The expanded kingdom was prospering under Guinevere's rule. However, the political games had only increased with the land, and Sefa preferred to avoid the stress of the citadel, after having been imprisoned there twice.

Though they had watched, waited and prepared, as the Spring Equinox drew closer, and the light of the sun grew more with each day, there was no sign of the prophecy Sefa had seen in the cold hearth after Imbolc. The last time Sefa had gone with her husband, she had felt the queen's stare following her around. There was nothing malicious in her dark brown eyes, only a sullen curiosity…silently asking when Sefa's prediction would manifest. The former maidservant didn't have an answer, so she chose to avoid the situation altogether.

"Liliane, be careful!" She called out to the child, who was scampering through the forest undergrowth, while Sefa bent to gather some nettles. She had on a thick leather glove, and carefully swept up the stem from the base to avoid the stinging hair-like thorns of the herb. A squeal of delight tore Sefa's attention away from the plant. She couldn't see her daughter anywhere, but the sound was one she dreaded nearly as much as if it had been a scream. It meant the spirited child had found something she shouldn't have.

Brushing off her skirt as she stood, Sefa left her basket near the nettles and went in search of Liliane. Coming around a large wolf tree, she saw a clearing and felt her heart stop. A devilish creature laid in the grasses of the forest glade, and Liliane was within arm's reach of it. Although it appeared asleep, it was easily the size of Sir Leon's warhorse or bigger, with massive jaws and teeth that glistened against the melting frost.

"Liliane." Sefa whispered, attempting to turn her daughter's attention away from the creature. Never in her life had she seen anything like it. Although, she recalled her father having mentioned something about the vile beast. She called again, slightly louder, and was preparing to rush forward to snatch her daughter before the creature awoke. "Liliane, come here now!"

The girl, turned and thankfully returned to Sefa's arms. Forgetting her foraging basket, the young mother whisked her child away, back to the safety of the village. She had never wished for Merlin more than she did at that moment, but in lieu of his presence, she settled for gathering the townsfolk when she returned, and explaining to them what she had seen so close to their homes.

 


	12. Ostara, Part 2 of 5

Merlin was not expecting so much activity, when he rode back into Ealdor. He saw his mother leaning against a short wall at the edge of town, while all the rest of the townsfolk appeared to be milling around near the center.

The pensive look on her face worried him immensely. "Mother?" He questioned, "What happened?"

Hunith licked her lips. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Sefa and Liliane found something in the forest."

"What is it?" Merlin asked, kicking out of the stirrups and sliding down off of his horse. His long, brown coat...that once belonged to Arthur, and was a recent gift to Merlin from Gwen...fluttered around his knees, as he landed in front of his mother.

Her eyes shifted to the center of town, before falling back to the ground. "I believe it is a dragon," she whispered.

Merlin's blue eyes widened. There was only one dragon left that he knew of, and she hadn't been seen since the Battle of Camlann. It was thought by many that the beast had perished along with Morgana, and Merlin wasn't about to correct anyone on that point. His own guilt had caused him to avoid seeking her out, or calling to her. When he had sent her away that night, he had felt the animosity she held for him; her mental anguish accusing him of being the one responsible for her condition.

It wasn't until later, after he had gone back to Camelot and had a long talk with Gwen, that he found out what had befallen the young dragon at the hands of the Sarrum. Merlin had opened up to his long-time friend, and told Gwen alone, about his father and the dragon. That was when Gwen had begun to cry, and explained what she remembered about the Sarrum's visit, and his description of what he had done to Morgana and her pet. After which, Merlin didn't feel he had any right to call the young creature, as he had obviously failed in protecting her.

His feet were moving towards the center of town, picking up speed and nearly running, before he even had a conscious thought about what he might do.

Shoving his way through the crowd he cried out, when he saw Aithusa bound by ropes and nets. She was struggling futilely against her bonds. The mass of villagers were forgotten, as he knelt next to her head; whispering to her in a nearly forgotten language. He pulled out his knife, and began to cut the woven strands of the thick ropes.

Aithusa appeared to be placated for the moment, relaxing and allowing him to cut through the cords.

At the edge of his hearing, Merlin could tell the people of Ealdor were murming questions as to their lord's motive. "What is he doing?" "He is going to doom us all." "Should we trust him?" "Is he powerful enough to really control that monster…?"

"She's not a monster!" He suddenly snapped out. "She is the last dragon."

It became clear, as the last of the bindings fell away, that Aithusa was in no shape to have fought them. Although larger than the last time he had seen her, she was still the skeletal pariah of her kind. "Can you speak?"

The dragon lifted her head weakly, and brushed against Merlin's hand.

Gasps and cries of alarm came from the villagers, when the dragon attempted to stretch out her wings. "QUIET!" Merlin ordered them all. "Go back about your business." Once upon a time, Merlin would have never dreamed of raising his voice to a gathering of people, but the years had changed him, and had molded him into a man his younger self would have never recognized. The common folk were scared. Whether it was of Aithusa or Merlin's wrath, it didn't matter, and they quickly dispersed. From their homes, they still kept a watchful eye out of their windows.

Sefa stood off to the side, holding Liliane in her arms. The girl was squirming to get down, and the young mother was becoming more anxious each passing moment. Merlin smiled at her, and motioned for his wife to come closer. "It's alright. Aithusa will not harm us."

Tentatively, Sefa moved forward. When she was close enough, Merlin held out his arms for their daughter.

Sefa was reluctant at first, but she trusted her husband above all others. So, she passed off the child to him, her eyes never leaving the monstrous head of the dragon. Her heart quickened, and she held her breath, when Merlin set Liliane on the ground. Giggling, the girl toddled over to the white beast; once again without any fear of the unknown creature.

"Is she ill?" Sefa asked, mesmerized by the gentleness the dragon seemed to have, while Liliane began to climb over her.

Closing his eyes, Merlin bit back his guilt and nodded, "I think she's dying." The words were barely a whisper on his lips. "I don't know what to do. Normal magic doesn't work on dragons, and I can't order her to be well, as much as I may wish it."

Steeling herself, Sefa felt the gentle fingers of the Goddess brush against her psyche, like a warm, summer breeze. She reached out and took Merlin's hand; feeling the knowledge come to her mind. "We will heal her together. Let the druids know. We will need them to help cast a circle. The solstice is coming. There should be enough energy on that night to draw upon the spirits, if you think she will survive until then."

Merlin placed a hand on the poll of Aithusa's head and sent her a silent message, before turning back to his wife. His blue eyes were filled with gratitude and love for the woman at his side. She didn't have to accept his words about the dragon. He had neglected to tell her of his connection to the great creature of the Old Religion, but she still stood by him, and never accused him of hiding anything, or lying to her.

He lifted his eyes and glanced around the now quiet village. He could sense the apprehension from the others, still watching through cracked doors and windows. "I can't leave her here alone, or else she might not make it to the solstice." Fear was a huge motivator in the minds of men. While Aithusa was so weak and vulnerable, they would only see an opportunity to claim conquest over the young dragon. There were still many in the kingdom who would pay an insurmountable sum of gold for a piece of the last dragon.

He had to smile through his tear-filled eyes, at the way his daughter babbled and patted the dragon. Merlin could only begin to imagine what the two might be like together, if Aithusa was healed.

"What do you need me to do, my son?" Hunith asked.

Merlin had almost forgotten that his mother was still nearby. He could see the longing in her eyes, as she watched him interact with the dragon and his family. Gaius had informed her of Balinor's passing in a carefully written letter years prior, but Merlin and his mother had never sat down to actually speak of what had happened. Perhaps, he thought, it was passed time to do so, but the conversation would have to wait until after he was certain Aithusa was safe.

"I will need to take her away from here…" He gazed at Sefa, to see if she had any suggestions.

She closed her eyes and opened her mind to receive the answer. "Do you think she can make it to the Isle of the Blessed?" Looking at the frail creature, who was barely able to raise her head, Sefa doubted she would be able to travel that far…much less cross the water to reach the isle.

Merlin shook his head. "The journey would be too hard on her, and I need to be back in…Aw!" He cringed, "I am supposed to return to Camelot in two days. Gwen and Leon are officially getting married. I promised Leon I would attend."

He didn't dare leave the young dragon on her own in her condition. There wasn't a chance of him being able to make it to Camelot and then to the Isle before the solstice. Also, now that that villagers knew there was a live dragon, rumor would spread quickly. Merlin wasn't about to let Aithusa out of his sight. She was obviously too weak to fend off any sort of attack.

"Whatever you decide, I will keep my granddaughter with me, while you both take care of the dragon." She cast a wary glance around the village. While she had known many of the people for years, and called them friends, even she understood how greed or fear could change a person. "Perhaps, Sir Percival can come to escort Liliane and myself to Camelot for the wedding? I will make your apologies to the Queen. I'm sure she would understand."

Sighing gratefully, Merlin smiled at his mother and nodded, "I will send a bird to Percival with the message immediately. After the wedding, I want the two of you to stay in Camelot until Sefa or I arrive."

"That still leaves us with the question of where to take her, especially if she will not make it as far as the Isle." Sefa said, beginning to feel more comfortable near the creature. Perhaps, once the creature was allied with Morgana, but that obviously had no impact on Merlin's concern for the dragon, and Sefa would do whatever she could to help him.

"I know of a place…"

 


	13. Ostara, Part 3 of 5

The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, when Merlin pulled up the reins on his horse. He looked back at the young dragon following them, and felt a lump catch in his throat. A goat from his herd had given her some of the nourishment she lacked, before they had left town. Along their journey, he had brought down a young stag with his magic, just to feed her, but with each passing day he could see her growing weaker.

Turning in the direction of Camelot, Merlin felt a pang of guilt. He had promised Leon he would be there, but with the life of the young dragon in the balance, he hoped that the knight and the queen would forgive his absence.

Percival had arrived quickly in Ealdor, after receiving Merlin's request. Merlin sat him down, along with Sefa and Hunith. With a heavy heart, he began to tell the story of how he came to be a Dragon Lord.

The large man was more than happy to assist his longtime friend in escorting Hunith and Liliane to Camelot. He promised to pass on Merlin's explanation personally, and assured the warlock that no one would fault him for his reasons.

Hunith had cried, when Merlin talked about meeting his father. He could see the questions burning in her eyes, but knew she would never ask them out loud.

Sefa had held his hand and added to the story, when Merlin got to telling them about Aithusa, with what little she knew about the dragon, from rumors during her father's alliance with Morgana.

While their acceptance helped to ease his burden, it didn't make the situation any easier. His heart was torn between his friends and the dragon. Merlin pondered the idea of using his magic to suddenly appear in Camelot for the nuptials, while Sefa continued on toward their destination. He only hesitated because of Aithusa's continual weakening state. If someone were to come upon his wife and dragon while he was away, they would be easy prey. He would never forgive himself if something happened to either of them.

Sensing her husband's distress, Sefa wrapped her arms around him from behind, and pressed her face into the space between his shoulder blades. "It will be alright, Merlin. You'll see."

"How did I get so lucky, hmm?" He asked, turning to look at her over his shoulder.

She smiled up at him. "I still believe that I am the one who is truly lucky."

Aithusa had finally managed to come alongside them. The dragon gave a snort that sounded rather disdainful, before she sank to the ground.

Merlin swung his leg over the neck of his mare, so that Sefa wouldn't have to dismount, and slid to the ground. He made his way over to the dragon and placed his hand on her head. "Aithusa…"

She moved her head away, not wanting to feel his pity, which only made him feel even guiltier about what had been done.

"We should rest here for a while," Sefa suggested.

Merlin nodded, and allowed his wife to lead him away from the young dragon.

She seemed a bit apprehensive. "How much further is it?" While she had been the one to offer a respite in their travelling, it was the eve of the solstice and she knew they needed to be in place hours before dawn.

Merlin pulled her into his arms. He stroked her auburn hair, cupping the base of her skull, as he dipped his head to kiss her.

Sefa pulled back, just before their lips met. "Not yet…We should wait until the spell is cast."

Grumbling, the warlock released her. He understood the need for abstinence before powerful magic, but feeling her body pressed against him while they rode, and not being able to even kiss her was becoming maddening. He longed for the comfort that she always offered him when he needed it. Seeing Aithusa in such a dire need of help and unable to do something to ease her suffering, had brought back the memories of his last time with Kilgharrah.

The Great Dragon had been old and dying. Merlin never had a chance to ask his mentor about Aithusa, or what could be done to save her. He assumed that without Morgana's evil to corrupt Aithusa, that the young dragon would eventually grow and become healthy without outside interference. He knew now, that thinking was wrong, and he blamed himself for it.

"We should continue," Sefa said. She moved toward the dragon, no longer fearing it as the monster she first saw, but instead, looking upon her as a child in need of healing. Her maternal instincts gave guidance to her words. "It won't be long now. Soon, you will fly as you once did."

Merlin stood by them both. He longed to see Aithusa healthy, but he knew the spell that Sefa planned would take its toll. For the magic to work, Sefa would have to call down the Goddess into herself for a Ceremony of Rebirth. He would once again act as her anchor to the world, as he unknowingly had on the Samhain they had first come together.

Aithusa gave a mewing sigh and nuzzled against Sefa's outstretched palm. She seemed to comprehend what was to come. The frail creature hauled herself to her feet, her wings dragging the ground at her sides, and started to move on toward their destination.

 


	14. Ostara, Part 4 of 5

The grass beneath his feet felt cool and damp, while the humidity in the air clung to his skin. He was clad only in a soft robe, wrapped around his naked body. The moonlight glistened off the stillness of the lake. He closed his eyes, pushing down the overwhelming pain in his heart.

Merlin had not returned to this shore since he had said goodbye to Kilgharrah, and then placed his king in the boat; sending Arthur into the mists surrounding the gates of Avalon.

A large bonfire burned behind him, and Merlin could almost see Arthur's reflection in his own shadow, on the water's glassy surface. His stare was broken when another shadow joined his. Glancing to the side, he saw that Iseldir had joined him.

"Everything is in place, Emyrs." He projected softly into Merlin's mind.

Nodding once, Merlin turned away from the lake, casting one last longing gaze out across the black expanse. He inhaled deeply of the spring air, and could smell the life surrounding the moment, as it filled him with power.

Aithusa was laying close to the fire, in a place of honor. Her chest heaved with every painful breath. Merlin walked toward her, and implored to the soul that they shared, for her to hold on, just a little longer. She barely stirred at his call, but it was enough to know that she was still fighting.

Merlin tried not to watch, as the druids surrounding the fire began to cast their robes aside. The auspicious hour of ritual had been set. It was the beginning of the Day of Balance, where night and day were marked as equals. The first day of Spring and the blessing of Ostara was brought upon the land, as it entered into the time of fertility and rebirth.

He was to play the part of the Green God of the Forest, in balance with the Goddess of Spring. He knew what was expected, but for the moment, he felt his nerves nearly give way.

Symbols of fertility were painted on the naked bodies of the druids, and they seemed to be waiting for him to join them. For the rebirth to take place, they were all to appear as they had been brought into the world. The red ochre paint on their skin represented the blood and water of their birth.

Steeling himself, Merlin let his own robe fall to the ground. His own body had been cleansed and decorated with the help of the druids earlier in the night, and he hadn't seen his wife since their arrival at the lake shore. He knew that she was also being prepared in a similar fashion.

He looked at Iseldir and nodded.

One by one, the druids fell into place, and the power of the circle began to rise. On the other side of the fire, the Goddess appeared. Merlin could tell that for the moment, that it was still Sefa, as she had yet to invoke the spirits. Her long, auburn hair cascaded freely around her face, and down over her shoulders. Her ample breasts, heavy with milk from not feeding Liliane for a few days, were only partially covered.

Red swirls of paint circled her areolas, and the buds of her nipples stood firm in the cool air. More paint decorated various parts of her body. A primal Celtic design around her navel and drawing lower around the bushel of wiry hair between her legs.

Merlin felt his body already beginning to react. He swallowed his anxiety at being skyclad around so many people. Focusing solely on her, he let his worry go. While she may have been just the Priestess to the others at this moment, Sefa would always be his Goddess. In every aspect of life, he tried to treat her as such, and couldn't imagine his life without her.

From the quarters, the chanting from the druids began; calling upon the East, the South, the West, and the North. Earth, Fire, Air, Water…each element assigned and rose in power to connect the life they all shared. They matched the stars in the heavens, and the tail of Ursa Major...which made up the constellation known as the Big Dipper...pointed due east, toward the place where the sun would rise and the celestial elements in the sky that represented Earth.

With each invocation, the perimeter was set around them by the Guardians of the four directions. Inside the circle, the bonfire was set closer to the south. The lake was just outside to the north. The altar to the Goddess stood to the east, and Aithusa…a creature of the air...was positioned to the west.

Merlin held out his hands to Sefa, as she joined him, coming to the center of the elements. By the time they stood together, his nervousness had diminished. They were alone in the center, as together they called upon the Lord and Lady to join the circle, and the full ritual began.[2]

Merlin had learned the words during his time of healing with the druids, but this would be his first time actually reciting them out loud. Dropping to the ground, he let his hands connect with the earth, and he drew from the seasonal changes around them.

Fresh blades of grass rose between his fingers, giving to him the cycle of their life from root to seed.

Gently and reverently, Merlin kissed his lover's feet.

"Blessed be thy feet that have brought thee in these ways."

His hands caressed up the length of her calves, and he pressed his lips to her knees.

"Blessed be thy knees, that shall kneel at the sacred altar."

Rising to his own knees, he pressed his face between her belly and her femininity. The center of her being; her core and the place where life began. He couldn't help but remember how she had carried their daughter inside her…all but alone. Merlin vowed silently to himself that if any more children were born to them, she would not have to face that again.

His thumbs brushed over the pink stretch marks, the battle scars of Liliane's birth.

"Blessed be thy womb, without which we would not be."

Half-standing, he pushed her hair back to expose her voluptuous breasts. He had to restrain himself from doing more than just kissing each nipple, tasting the drip of her sweet milk as they leaked from fullness and anticipation of the coming rites.

It was with more than a ritual summoning that he uttered, "Blessed Be thy breasts, formed in beauty."

Standing fully, he dipped his head and prepared to kiss her lips. Pressing himself against her as he did; unable to stop the need to want to taste her. He could already sense the change of the magic on his tongue; the Drawing Down nearly complete, as the Goddess began to descend into his love.

"Blessed be thy lips that shall utter the sacred names."

Embracing, with their feet touching, and the length of their skyclad bodies melding together, he pressed a kiss...full and passionate...to her mouth. In his breath, he called upon his magic…his connection with the world, with the sky, the fire and air...summoning the Goddess into her.

Pulling away, he felt Sefa's consciousness step aside.

Merlin knelt again, his arms outstretched and his palms facing out in supplication. For a moment, he felt a sense of unease. The power was already building beyond what he had envisioned. His rational mind cried that it was almost too much, but then, he looked to the side and saw Aithusa. The dragon's body was so still, and he knew that if he faltered, she would perish. He had called her to life once, from the egg found in the tomb of Ashkanar. His own ignorance had doomed her to a life of pain at the side of his enemy, who had been the only one to show her love and loyalty.

Taking a deep breath, he called out in his deep voice that carried the connection to his kin. "I invoke thee and call upon thee, Mighty Mother of us all. By seed and root...by bud and stem...by leaf and flower and fruit...by life and love, do I invoke thee to descend upon the body of this, thy servant and priestess."

He could see the tendrils of magic wrapping around Sefa's body as the Goddess came into her. The green eyes he adored filled with the golden threads of magical fire, creating whirlpools of shimmering light.

Surrounding him, he could hear the invocations carried on by the druids, as they called and echoed the names of the Mother Goddess. Hails to Aradia, Eostre, and others were sent to the wind. The drums began and the celebrations filled the circle.

Sefa's body knelt in front of him. He could still feel her there, watching from eyes that were not her own, but accepting of the use of her body for the magic to work. Cupping Merlin's cheeks in her hands, She pressed his lips with Hers, encouraging them to open to Her.

His own magic was writhing within him, connecting to the Goddess before him. While part of him wanted to deny Her, and instead, lay with his wife, he also began to truly understand what Sefa had meant about being a vessel of the Goddess. If he broke from this, he would be casting aside a large part of who she was…who she had been born to be.

Grasping Her shoulders, Merlin plunged his tongue into the depths of her mouth, his magic mingling with the Goddess'.

He slid his hands from Her shoulders and tucked them under Her armpits, pulling Her tightly against him. Their painted skin pressed together; his erection full and pulsing against the skin of Her belly at the level of Her womb. He was ready, as was She. Slipping a hand in between them, he cupped Her breast; feeling the sensation of Her milk feeding the fertile earth below them.

She gasped at the tender touches and pushed against his hand, silently asking for something more than the featherlight caresses. Sefa's desire for her husband fed into the needs of the Goddess, and She moaned when he rolled the nipple between calloused fingers.

Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, and raked down his back to his buttocks. Grasping them fully, She kneaded against the solid muscles, desperate to have him inside Her. Devouring his kisses, She felt him give in fully, accepting himself and the Her. Her hands came around and grasped his manhood. Using the weeping from the tip, She moved along his length, until it was slick. Then, She pushed him back to the ground and straddled his hips, rubbing Her moist heat against him.

He groaned loudly, and let his head fall back; the magic of her womanhood making him ache in desperation, and throb with unabashed need. His hands groped Her hanging bosom, squeezing their full weight, and rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive buds.

The warmth of the Goddess descended on him, taking him into Her fully in one movement. His skin slipping back as he entered and felt Her core at his tip.

Sefa's body rocked on top of him, rubbing the node of her pleasure against the coarse, dark hair of his pubic region, until She cried out in ecstatic release. She surrounded him with the heat of Her magic, and Her walls shuddered and quaked around him...tighter and tighter...until it neared the line between pleasure and pain.

Pulling Her down on top of him, Merlin lost his mind to the exquisite sensations of the moment. The Great Rite. A sacred ritual of life filled them both. He plunged into Her...over and over...racing to keep up with the unspoken demands of the Goddess.

The sun crested the horizon and they screamed out their welcoming passion with its first rays. The power built, their bodies were one, melded together in their love and their magic. The light from the morning caught on the golden mist that cascaded over their bodies. Fires swirled in their eyes, they breathed in tandem, their hearts beating rapidly as one as their souls mingled and mixed toward release.

The world around them seemed to hold its breath; waiting and watching. Subconsciously, Merlin could feel the druids gathering closer to him and the Goddess. Gentle fingers touched his shoulder and his legs, each member of the druid tribe lending their strength and power to the healing magic of rebirth.

As one, they turned toward the young dragon, her head within reach of their hands. Merlin and the Goddess stretched towards her, brushing against her snout just as the peak was reached.

Merlin's voice was that of the Dragon Lord as he cried out the name of the Goddess above him; older than the names given to Her by the druids. She responded by devouring him with the fires of Her magic. She met him in a kiss unlike anything he had ever known, and took his golden aura into Her body, just as She had done with his flesh. Through their outstretched fingers, the magic focused and fed into the frail dragon, casting a net of healing over her.

The outpouring of their climax had sent out a wave of magical release far greater than anyone could have expected. At the end, the Goddess moved out of Sefa, leaving the young woman to collapse on top of her husband.

Merlin didn't know how long he stared at the sky with a glossy-eyed look, before he started to chuckle, "That was…intense."

"Mm hmm." She laid with her head on his chest, drawing lazy circles across his pectorals with her finger.

"What is it?" He asked lovingly. He could feel that her quietness was more than just the state of her exhaustion.

Sefa held silent for a few moments and debated with herself. She always felt a measure of inadequacy after the Goddess left her, as if her humanity was never enough. The invocation of the spirit brought on such a heightened state of awareness, that coming back to her own body sometimes felt like being punished or imprisoned. "After that…I wonder if…if I will be enough...for you, I mean."

"At the risk of annoying a Goddess, I much prefer you as…you." He whispered, with a smile. Merlin pulled her tightly against him. The paint on their bodies having mingled and smeared from the precise, esoteric symbols, to nothing more than a mess of colors. His eyes met hers; blue and green with no trace of the magic that had inhabited them just a few moments before. The only sounds they could hear, aside from their own breathing, were the calls of the morning birds and other creatures of nature awakening to the Day of Balance.

Other than the dying embers of the bonfire, and their robes laid out nearby, there was no sign of the druids from the night before. Merlin mentally prodded the area around them, searching for Aithusa, and he felt her nearby, sleeping soundly and painlessly for the first time in years. In the center of their pile of clothing, a small, white figure the size of a cat, laid curled up and oblivious to the two humans nearby.

For a moment, they marveled at the transformation. The magic had not just simply healed Aithusa. Merlin had wondered if the damage to her body was too much, and now he had his answer. If she remembered her struggles in life, he didn't know, but at least now he had a chance to take care of her, as he should have before.

Deciding to let the dragon be, he kissed Sefa gently, brushing her auburn hair behind her ear.

One last lingering gift of the Goddess touched him, and he began to feel himself rising to the occasion within Sefa's womanly folds. He shifted his pelvis to let her know just how much he meant those words he had spoken, moments earlier. No visage of the Goddess could compare to the way he felt for the woman on top of him.

Sefa returned his kiss, smiling through the tears of her love. Next thing she knew, he had flipped them over, so that he was now on top of her in the soft grasses. He began kissing the length of her neck, before moving to her mouth. Carefully he started to move, fearful that she might be tender after the Great Rite.

Responding with a low moan of encouragement, she pressed her tongue into his mouth. The Goddess had left her feeling exhausted, but yet still unsated in her own desire to feel her husband's touch. Slow and gentle this time...they made love to each other in the morning light.

Unbeknownst to them, the wave of magic that had been sent out, created ripples across the surface of the nearby lake. A young woman smiled and turned from her scrying pool, beyond the Gates of Avalon. The Rebirthing Ceremony was the sign she and others had been waiting for.

During the previous Samhain, a dark deal had been struck and an evil presence had risen from the depths of Annwn. It was time for the warriors to be awoken, and balance to be restored.

 


	15. Ostara, Part 5 of 5

By the time the stable boy had taken the reins of the horse, Sefa was never more grateful to soon be on her own two feet.

The ride from the lake to Camelot may have only taken a few hours, but her exhaustion from the ceremony…as well as the activities after the fact, when Merlin proved it was her, and not the Goddess within, who he loved…had taken its toll. She ached in places she hadn't even known existed. However, when Merlin helped her down from the mare, she knew she wouldn't have changed a thing. A sling was wrapped around her body.

When Liliane was an infant, Sefa had used it to carry her daughter. Even though the girl had outgrown the sling, the young mother still carried the cloth with her. It worked to help carry firewood or herbs, as the need saw fit. Now, it carried something else…something she had never anticipated. The little dragon, still sleeping, shifted and purred inside the pouch.

"It is about time you arrived, Merlin." A regal voice said, from the stairs of the castle.

Merlin turned to see Gwen, dressed in her finest gown, descending the stairs. Her arm rested on Leon's, who was also wearing his finest clothing for the occasion. Although the knight appeared happy, Merlin shifted uneasily when his friend's eyes…filled with accusation...landed on him.

Stepping forward with a smile, Merlin embraced his queen warmly. The two former servants foregoing the propriety that was supposed to bind them to their current stations. "Forgive me for not being here for the wedding."

It was still early after the None Bell when Sefa and Merlin had ridden in through the West Gate. The whole place was decorated with banners, not just for the Equinox, but also for the wedding celebrations. The citizens of Camelot were enjoying the festivities of the spring market and the faire-like atmosphere of the great city.

Biting her bottom lip, Gwen thought about making her friend feel guilty, but Hunith and Percival's excuses for the warlock had piqued her curiosity…and she knew she could never be truly mad at Merlin. "We postponed it until this evening. It will begin just after the Vespers Bell," she explained. Curiosity lit her dark eyes, and she shifted her gaze between the warlock and his wife. "Well? Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Even better!" Merlin's eyes lit up like a child with a new toy, and he gleefully led Gwen over to Sefa. Carefully, he reached into the pouch, and against the squawking protest of being awoken and torn from the warmth of Sefa's body, he produced the small dragon.

Aithusa glared at Merlin for a moment before her cerulean blue eyes landed on the queen. Struggling against her Dragon Lord's grasp, she attempted to get to Gwen.

Gwen held out her arms and the pint-sized dragon cooed in delight.

"Well, that answers my question as to if she remembers anything that happened to her." Merlin stated softly. In his heart, he'd known it was a good possibility that Aithusa would remember. Her body was rejuvenated, but now he knew it would be a longer road to heal her mind. Sefa touched his elbow, silently letting him know she would be there for him.

The guards on the steps held their spears at the ready, disturbed by the sudden appearance of the magical, white beast. Their initial fear that the queen was being attacked, was compounded by their confusion of the others standing nearby and not reacting with concern.

"Stand down." Leon's authoritative call rang through the courtyard. Straightening his formal tunic, the knight cleared his throat. He kept his features schooled, but his eyes betrayed his own nervousness at seeing the dragon with his queen. "Perhaps, we should go inside. I am sure you and the Lady Sefa would like to freshen up before the ceremony, and I believe Gwen and I should be preparing ourselves as well."

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. He was beginning to feel the itch of some of the paint he had missed, when he and Sefa had cleansed themselves in a stream on the way to Camelot. He also wanted to spend a bit of time with his family, before standing in the Great Hall to witness the nuptials of his friends.

* * *

Merlin returned to the feast with a few men who had accompanied Queen Guinevere and her new husband to the marriage chamber. Sir Geraint, and others among the court, had insisted on keeping with the traditions and witnessing the consummation between Gwen and Leon. It was mostly just a formality, as many in the kingdom already knew that their queen had taken Sir Leon between her sheets. She was far from being a maiden, either, after her marriage to Arthur. Merlin went along to keep an eye on Geraint, more than to watch his friends solidifying their nuptials.

Once that was seen too, he quietly went back to his wife. The celebratory feast would continue on into the night until the long after the last bell had rung. Wine, ale, and mead flowed freely into and out of the cups of the gathered nobility and guests.

As the echo of the Compline Bell resounded through the citadel, a chill came over Merlin. It was reminiscent of one he had felt years before, on the eve of Samhain, when Morgana had torn the Veil. Only Sefa's tight grasp on his, suddenly, cold hand, kept him from falling prey to the same overwhelming magic that had caused him to fall into unconsciousness.

The Cailleach did not appear to him, as she had before, but he still felt the growing sense of unease seep into his bones. With his magical sight, he saw instead, two men wearing crowns and standing before an altar.

Gaius' hand, ridden with arthritis and palsy, settled on his shoulder and drew Merlin back from the vision. The old man understood the glassy-eyed gaze of a vision, especially from the man he had considered to be like a son to him. "Merlin, will you assist me to my chambers? I fear even a single cup of watered wine has been entirely too much for these old bones."

Grateful for the solid excuse to be free of the stares of the nobility, Merlin gladly accepted the offer.

"I shall come with you, as it is late and I am sure Liliane is missing us." Sefa stated, for which Merlin was doubly thankful.

Foregoing the feast, Hunith had stayed with Alice in the Physician's Chamber to care for her granddaughter and her new playmate. Gwen had half-jokingly ordered Merlin to bring Aithusa with him, but the Dragon Lord had felt it would be too much, too soon, for the recently healed dragon. The three of them made their way through the castle, and Merlin collapsed into a chair as soon as the door to the chamber closed behind them.

"What did you see, my boy?" Gaius asked without formality.

Merlin shivered and felt a blanket being draped over his shoulders. He smiled his thanks at Sefa for the cover, as he pulled it tightly around him. She kissed his cheek before moving toward the table where Hunith and Alice sat. Liliane was curled up on the cot near the fire; the little dragon sound asleep in her arms.

"Two kings...One wore shining armor and a decorated helm that obscured his face. The other was wilder looking, with a crown of antlers, almost as if he were a King of the Druids."

The sharp intake of breath from Hunith caught Merlin's attention. He looked at his mother, who was hiding her face away from him. Shifting his blue eyes to Gaius, he could see the hidden depths of a memory behind the rheumy eyes. "What is it?"

"Merlin, there hasn't been a Druid King since Uther killed the last one in battle, many years before even the Great Purge." He sat back in consternation and pondered how much to tell his former ward. He could hear Hunith's rapid breathing. What he was about to say was something Gaius knew she had never wanted to hear. "I suppose it is long past the time when secrets should be kept.

"It was just after Uther's brother died, and there was insurgance of chaos before Uther took the crown. The Druid King had been an advisor to King Ambrosius, and he feared Uther taking the crown...for obvious reasons. After the battle was when Uther, fearing retribution, made certain all the children of the Druid King were dispatched. In fact, there was only one child of the Druid King who survived…" Gaius turned his eyes to Hunith. "...And that was because Uther never even knew of her existence."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. This last chapter had a lot of help from Matthew72 to figure out.
> 
> Footnotes:
> 
> 1: Taken from historical writings of Gildas on Constatine, the successor of Arthur.
> 
> 2: Drawing Down of the Moon ceremony script, found in various places online.


	16. Paschal Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new revelation following Leon and Gwen's wedding sets Merlin on a new path for his future and the future of Al

_**The Paschal Moon…interlude.** _

The vast library in the Hall of Records was a comfort to him. The parchments, scrolls, and leather-bound tomes, covered with layers of dust, welcomed him.

Merlin still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the news that his mother had hidden from him, all these years. She had been twelve when she had last seen her father, the druid advisor of King Ambrosius. Searching through the books that Geoffrey had managed to dig up, Merlin had found very few references.

It appeared that druidic history was among those writings that Uther had personally removed from the library. Although, the old scholar admitted that there wasn't much on them before that; only that many of the kings prior to Uther's reign, had utilized the druids as counsel in disputes. There was no land, or anything that Merlin could find, that pointed to an actual kingdom. After a few days of sifting through the library, he realized he wasn't getting any answers and he needed to look elsewhere.

Hunith was still reluctant to speak about most of it. She admitted that her own mother had not been a druid. Much of her young life was spent in Ealdor, and not with her father at court or among the druid tribes. She knew of him as a man and a father who would visit when he could, but not as the Druid King. She could offer Merlin very little insight into his ways.

Gaius had more knowledge of the Old Religion than anyone, and he recalled meeting the advisor to Ambrosius a few times. However, once again Merlin found he had come away with more questions than answers, as Gaius' familiarity was more on that of the High Priestesses and their variations of the Triple Goddess, and the scholarly version of sorcery, than it was of the druidic paths.

It was Percival who finally voiced the suggestion that made Merlin suddenly feel like the idiot Arthur had always said he was. "Why don't you just ask the druids?" His friend had said, with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

Nearby, Sefa had giggled at the look on her husband's face, and muttered about how sometimes husbands  _should_  listen to their wives.

"Oh hush, you!" Merlin snapped out, only causing her to laugh harder. She had brought up the idea, when the past existence of the Druid King had been first brought to Merlin's attention. The dark-haired warlock had still been in shock from the news at the time, and hadn't fully contemplated her suggestion.

* * *

"Iseldir."

"Emrys. Welcome. I am glad your family could join us for the Paschal Moon.[1] What is wrong? You seem concerned."

"I am. After we made it to Camelot, the night of the solstice, I had a vision…" He told the druid chieftain about what he had seen; of the two kings standing before the stone altar. "I then found out later, that my mother…whom I never suspected to be anything more than she presented herself to be…is actually the daughter of a Druid King...the one who advised King Ambrosius and was later slain by Uther."

The elder druid smiled knowingly. "I had suspected that there was more magic in your blood than just that of the Dragon Lord's. It is your destiny as Emrys. If your mother is indeed the last of the Druid King's children, then you may be the next Druid King yourself."

"What do you mean, 'may be?'" Merlin's head was spinning to imagine that the druids had known this information all along.

"Forgive me, Emrys. I had assumed you already knew of your heritage." The chieftain said with a bow of apology. "I will do my best to explain. Among our people, the king rules no lands. He does not make or change the laws, nor does he govern in the same sense your King Arthur did. The Druid King is an advisor more than anything; assisting in finding peaceful solutions, while acting on behalf of our people to prevent the destruction that war between kingdoms would bring."

Merlin took a deep breath and shook his head. He almost laughed at the thought. For over a decade, hidden in the shadows of servitude, he had done just that with Arthur, and then, more openly with Guinevere. His mind recalled the averted war with Queen Annis of Caerleon, and also when Odin had kidnapped King Rodor of Nemeth. "So, you are saying, I am the Druid King?"

Laughing heartily, Iseldir clapped him on the shoulder. "No...only that you have the potential to be. The Druid King is not always chosen by birthright, as Arthur inherited the Kingdom of Camelot from Uther. Any man among us can try. While your family lineage may give you an advantage, you will still need to be tested to see if the spirits of the Old Religion and the Earth will accept you as such."

"Are you saying, that I will have to take on a quest of some sorts? What if I don't want to be a king?"

"Who would you have in your stead, then, Emyrs? Our people mostly govern themselves in harmony with nature. The last one to attempt to take the mantle of the Druid King was Sefa's father. It was the last Great Hunt. Her mother was one of the few remaining priestesses at the time, and the only one able to be the Virgin Huntress to Ruadan's Great Stag. While he completed the hunt, and laid with the Huntress, he did not have the power to call forth the Goddess, as you have already shown you can."

Merlin sighed. There was no one he could think of who could perform such a feat. "Sefa would be the Huntress, then?"

"No. As she has already been a conduit of the Goddess, she has also borne you a child, and…" The druid smirked, glancing down at the druids celebrating the full moon in the meadow below. "If I am not mistaken, she will soon give you another."

Laughing, the warlock looked at his wife. He felt a sense of elation. It was quickly cast aside in the light of Iseldir's words. Merlin hoped he was wrong in his interpretation. Sefa was the only woman he had ever been with, and he didn't quite like the idea of another person taking her place in his bed.

"You will not know the identity of the Huntress, nor will it be you, exactly, who takes her maidenhood, but a channeling of the Great Stag."

Merlin shivered, he wasn't sure if he wanted to actually invoke some sort of bestial god into himself. He, also, wasn't certain what his wife might think.

"The time has come when the fate of the Druid people will be decided. Our seers have felt the change in the balance, as I am sure you have."

Wincing, he nodded slowly. During the most recent Samhain, he had felt the world around him shift, but he had brushed it off as being the spirits of the past, visiting through the Veil. Something dark was now coming. Iseldir's words confirmed what Merlin had feared to speak out loud. "Arthur will be returning as well, then?" He stated, more than asked.

"If that is what you have seen."

"In the hearth, after Sefa and I were married…we saw four figures and the Pendragon Crest. But, Gwen and Leon…" He closed his eyes and rubbed his palms across his face.

"I believe it would be best, if you and your family lived among us, at least until it is time to light the Fires of Beltane. Learn our ways, Emrys. Meet our people." The druid chieftain implored, "When you came to us a few seasons back, it was for healing and redemption. You gained from our knowledge and were taught the words of our prayers. Come with us now and learn how to truly apply that which is already instinctive and natural for you.

"If, when the time for the Great Hunt comes, and you choose not to go through the trials…then, it will be your choice to make."

The two men stood in silence for a time, watching as the full moon rose over the crest of a nearby hill. Below them, songs rose up into the night air; dancing and feasting in honor of the Moon Goddess had begun.

Merlin contemplated the wise words of the druid elder, while he watched his family…his wife, his daughter, and the little dragon…joining in the festivities. They appeared completely at home among the druid people, more so than they had been in Ealdor. The temptation to stay was strong. He knew the people of his village would be hard pressed to accept the presence of a dragon, even one as small as Aithusa was now.

While Sefa did not bear the mark the druids herself, her father had been counted as one of them, before he chose to follow Morgana. The druidic tribe had assisted her during her pregnancy, but she had still carried the burden and guilt of her father's choice in her own heart, and didn't feel comfortable enough to stay.

In truth, these were her people, as much as they could become Merlin's. To them, she was the living avatar of the Mother Goddess; the aspect of the divine who they worshipped above all others. They revered her in the height of ceremony. They also treated her with respect seeing her as a normal, and yet, soft-spoken woman. They bore no grudge against her for her father's past.

Merlin marveled at the change in her. From the time they had met in the castle, when she was a young woman, barely eighteen summers, until now. She had become a wonderful wife and mother…his soul and his strength…with a spark of sass saved only for him.

 _"Don't ever change…"_  The words from Arthur seemed to whisper to him on the wind...but...he had tried that, and had nearly driven himself past the point of insanity in his grief.

Everything changed. Nature Herself was in a constant state of transition, never stagnant. Some days the words felt more like a curse, than a request.

Hadn't he already changed, though?

He was now married with a child. He had been bestowed a title and lands. The once closely guarded secret of his magic was open knowledge to the Kingdom of Camelot, as was his council to her queen. His level of confidence in himself had certainly changed. As much as he missed Arthur, out from under his friend's powerful shadow, Merlin had been able to truly be himself.

His loyalty hadn't waivered. He had once threatened Gwen with leaving Camelot when he discovered the truth about Liliane, but even through that, he stood by the queen. His attunement to nature, and his protectiveness over those he loved had only grown.

'What is change?' He mused silently, now unsure of what Arthur had meant by those words. He wondered if even the dying king had known.

The answer that came to him, seemed so simple.

Aithusa, chasing fireflies in the moonlit meadow, rose up in the air, until she was silhouetted by the moon; spreading her wings wide as she soared higher and higher into the night sky. She had been reborn, completely changed by the spell casting of the Ostara Ritual, but the little creature was still the same dragon deep down. Memories of her life and sorrows were forever etched on her soul. She hadn't changed, but by the same token, her transformation had been enormous.

Merlin had already experienced a rebirth during his time with the druids, following that fateful Samhain night. Perhaps, he pondered, it was time for another. With the prophecy of Arthur's return on the horizon, Merlin needed to figure out who he truly was, before he was forced to confront his past, lest he fall once again into his friend's shadow.

If destiny meant for him to be a Druid King, standing at Arthur's side, instead of following him across the lands, then it was time he stopped fighting the change. He felt himself beginning to flow with the opportunity presented to him. The more he allowed himself to learn, the better his council in the approaching days would be received.

...And only the Goddess knew what truly was coming on the wings of the Dragon Lord's destiny...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: The Paschal Moon. It is how the date of the Easter Holiday is determined. It is the first full moon after the Spring Equinox, Easter then follows on the very next Sunday.


	17. Beltane, Part 1 of 6

**_"In your hand red silken threads_ **

**_But in my hand they're blue_ **

**_For a time they intertwine_ **

**_'Til the dance begins anew."_ **

_(Lyrics from Spiral Dance by Jaiya)_

* * *

The warmth of her breath against the bare skin of his back, calmed his heart. The full moon above them was as red as the Mother's blood and watching it gave him a sense of foreboding.

For over a month, he had immersed himself into the druid culture, learning what it meant to be one of them. It felt right in so many ways. Merlin began to wonder how he even survived in places like Ealdor and Camelot not knowing his wife's people; his mother and grandfather's people. Things he had discovered through instinct were taught to the children of the druids. The respect for life around them, the calls of the wind through the trees and the cleansing of the rain on his skin.

Iseldir's clan had accepted them in with open arms; Merlin, Sefa, their daughter...and even the reborn Aithusa. It almost felt, some days, as if he had never lived any other way. Nights like this one, however, reminded him of the world outside the small clan.

He felt Sefa's arms tighten around his naked torso. She could sense the changes, as well. The moon was an ominous sign of things to come.

When they first saw the ashes, prophesying the return of the Pendragon it had excited and frightened him. Then, as the weeks passed and nothing else was seen, they had settled into a routine of normality in Ealdor. In Camelot, celebrations were planned for the queen and her consort, Leon, to marry. Merlin still didn't grasp all the rules of nobility, it gave him a headache every time he tried.

Although, she was the queen, through her former marriage to Arthur - Gwen was seen more as acting reagent because of her common upbringing. Leon was a noble, but in no position in the royal line of succession to be named king.

The announcement of Constantine's impending arrival was held over their heads like a hammer, waiting to drop. After the wedding of Leon and Guinevere, is when Merlin took his leave, believing the kingdom to be safe for the time being, even from the threat of Arthur's cousin. He hadn't received any word from Camelot to tell him otherwise.

Life among the druids was good for his small family.

"I had a dream." Sefa whispered, breaking the silence of the night.

He turned his head over his shoulder, and rubbed her bare arm. "Hmm?"

"They're coming, you know. Sooner than we thought."

"I feel it, too. We still don't know when, though." Releasing a breath, he forced himself to let go of the worries that plagued him. He pulled her arms free, and led her around to face him. Dipping his head, he kissed her gently. "I'm going to miss you the next few days."

"No, you won't," she giggled, "You will be too busy preparing for the ritual to even think about me."

"Nonsense. I always think about you. You are always the first thing on my mind and heart when I wake, and the last thing before I sleep." He met her lips for another kiss, deeper and filled with the longing he held for her.

Teasingly, he pulled at the string of the cloak wrapped over her shoulders, knowing that there was nothing underneath. When the front fell open, he smiled and his eyes drifted down. His hands floated gently above her skin, barely brushing against the delicate, dusty-pink flowers around her nipples.

Sefa closed her eyes and hummed her pleasure at his soft caress. She loved the way he always wanted to touch her. Whether it was a simple brush of their hands, or the fondling of her more delicate places. They had known their time was short, but felt they could sneak out into the woods for one last romantic rendezvous before everything began.

The snapping of a twig nearby, caused the lovers to pause. Merlin glanced towards the sound and then he turned to meet Sefa's eyes with an apology. "I thought we would have had more time." He could feel a few men nearby, and knew they were waiting for him.

"I know, my love," she said, "Go. When I see you next..."

He felt his heart clench, and kissed her one last time. It seemed as if his destiny to unite Albion didn't end with Arthur's death. The coming ritual was the next step in his evolution. Pulling the cloak back over her, he cupped her cheek in his hand affectionately.

Taking one last, longing glance at the Blood Moon, high above them, and he turned to the waiting druids. He followed them into the forest to begin the preparations that would cleanse his mind and body for the coming trials.

Sefa pulled the fabric tighter around her, shivering against the sudden chill left by his absence.

* * *

"Sefa!"

Looking up, the young woman brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She smiled when she saw Hunith coming towards her. Standing up, she rushed to meet her mother-in-law with a hug. "We didn't expect you to come!"

"How could I not? My son might be following in his grandfather's footsteps as a Druid King. It's not something you get to see every day." The older woman glanced around the large meadow. On a nearby hill were standing stones, inside the ring, bonfires were being built for the Beltane ceremony. Over a hundred people milled about, in various activities. Some were cooking, others were setting up the May Poles...there was a festive atmosphere permeating the air. "Is Merlin around?"

Sefa shook her head, while she led Hunith over to their personal tent. "He was taken a few days ago to begin preparations." Her mind went to Merlin and the last time she had seen him. Each night since, she had woken with nightmarish visions of things to come. Some involved Arthur's return, and others were of Merlin choosing the Maiden Huntress over her. "Liliane and Aithusa will be happy to see you!" She added, burying her own anxiety of the night to come.

Tomorrow, she knew that the challenge would be issued and the days festivities would commence. First the Great Hunt, followed by the part she was more nervous about.

Dressed in a gray robe, the silver-haired druid chieftain stood waiting for the two women. "Sefa," he said softly, nodding his head in respect. "Are you well today?"

"I am," she lied, trying to make herself believe it.

He smiled knowingly, and squeezed her arm. "Forgive me. I know you have just arrived, Lady Hunith, but if I may have a word with you?"

Sefa watched warily, when the two stepped aside and out of the range of her hearing. She bit her bottom lip, wondering what they were discussing. Pulling herself out of her musings, she peaked inside the tent. Liliane was still napping, with her chubby arms holding tight to the young dragon. A few months ago, Sefa never would have imagined a dragon for a babysitter, now she knew she wouldn't trust anyone else nearly as much.

Aithusa had become like a second child. Although, the little dragon clung to Merlin's shoulders like a growth somedays; fearful of being separated from her Dragon Lord, as she had been before. For Merlin, it became second nature to have the dragon with him. She would either follow, or wrap herself around his shoulders like a scarf. Sefa had teased him about trading in his signature neckerchief for the magical creature.

When Hunith finally rejoined Sefa, the older woman appeared a bit unsettled, but refused to speak about her conversation with Iseldir.

The afternoon soon turned into evening; Hunith helped Sefa prepare dinner and played with her granddaughter.

"Did you come here alone?" Sefa asked, attempting to make small talk while they cooked.

"No," Hunith replied. "Sir Percival escorted me, but he had to return to Camelot...to be at the Queen's side. I had hoped to speak with Merlin about some news from the citadel, but Iseldir told me I probably wouldn't be able to see him until the morning of Beltane."

Sighing, Sefa checked the small pheasant, cooking over the fire. "He was taken a few nights ago by the elders. What is happening in Camelot? We have not had any news since we came to live with the druids."

"It is nothing to be concerned with." The elder woman said, but her refusal to meet Sefa's eyes told the young woman a different story.

"Tomorrow is Beltane Eve, we might see glimpses of him...although, I was told he wouldn't be allowed to speak, as part of the ritual."

Hunith moved next to her, and placed a comforting arm around Sefa's shoulders. "It'll be alright. I think...somewhere in my heart...I always knew he might have to face these trials one day. I had heard of them when I was young, when my father would visit. It worried me, especially after Merlin found his destiny in Camelot. He is strong, and we just have to have faith that things will work out."

"What do you mean?"

Hunith shook her head, realizing she had already said too much.

Sefa rolled her shoulders to dislodge herself from Hunith's arm. "Don't coddle me. I can feel what is to come, and I know it is coming soon."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." Moving away, Hunith looked at her granddaughter; playing a game with the dragon. "Things are not well in Camelot. I wish I could tell you more, but I swore I would speak to Merlin about it first."

"I understand."

* * *

Morning came and as Sefa climbed out of her tent. She was surprised to see that more druid clans had arrived during the night. Many of the people gathered were already in the midst of preparations for the day's events. She kept herself as busy as she could, pushing away the mixture of nerves and anticipation. So wrapped up in her own mind, worrying about her husband and the upcoming hunt, she didn't notice when Iseldir arrived back at the gathering leading four men in armor.

Near midday the horns began to sound. Atop the crest of a hill, she saw a group of men. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the one in the middle, dressed in a leather loincloth and a helm of a deer head. Fur still covered the skull and antlers of a young stag stood tall from the top. The hide from the neck was still attached and fell down around his shoulders, helping to keep the entire piece from falling off.

His body was decorated in esoteric symbols, and if she didn't know him so well, Sefa might not have recognized her own husband under the primal costume. She tried to catch his eye, but noticed he was not looking in her direction. Starting to follow his gaze, her attention was diverted by a couple of young girls nearby, commenting on how they wished they could have been chosen for the part of the Maiden Huntress. They continued to discuss the various things they would like to do to him, each idea naive and silly, if Sefa really thought about it.

Biting back a comment was hard. She felt a surge of jealousy and sadness welling up inside her. She wanted to tell them that it was her husband they were discussing, but she kept her thoughts to herself. For this ritual he was not to be seen as her Merlin...only as the Stag, or the Hunter. With great effort, she turned her attention Liliane, who was currently pulling all the wildflowers they had collected earlier in the morning from Sefa's basket.

She shivered, when a cheer erupted from the gathered druids. While they all felt the joy of the celebration...Sefa felt the cold fingers of destiny racing through her veins.

 


	18. Beltane, Part 2 of 6

Four men sat around a low table, near the center of large field. At the heart of all the festivities stood a ring of stones. Around it, appeared to be hundreds of people, all gathered for the Beltane festival. Poles had been erected. Children danced around them, trailing ribbons as they wove in and out, braiding the strips of colored cloth around the center staffs. With each turn around the circle, a garland at the center dropped lower and lower. Drums and circles of dancers dotted the area. Some were stepping and clapping sticks like small swords, together in unison with music from pipes and harps.

There were a few other low tables nearby, made of stones and downed logs, piled with food and drink for anyone's choosing. Scattered trees in the area were being covered by clooties and charms, as older children climbed high among the limbs to decorate them.

"This is not at all what I expected." Elyan said quietly. He shifted in his seat, intimidated by the carefree attitude of the people around them. After his experience, he had not realized there was such a level of happiness and freedom among the druids.

"When Iseldir met us earlier and mentioned a hunt...I didn't expect this either. Truth be told, however, this is my kind of hunting." Gwaine smirked and lifted a cup of mead to his lips. His eyes roamed over the bodies of two young ladies as they passed.

"Behave yourself, Gwaine. Remember we are here as their guests." Arthur stated calmly. He sipped an unknown flavor of wine out of the horn cup in his hand. His intelligent blue eyes scanned his surroundings. Early that morning, Arthur and the others had found themselves on a boat, sailing through mist. On the shore stood Iseldir, a druid who Arthur had met before.

Iseldir had explained a little to them, as had the woman who had guided the boat. Over two and a half years had passed since Arthur had died. The balance of the world had been upset and the Once and Future King was needed again.

They had followed the druid to the celebrations, and been made welcome. It was obvious that the place where they were seated, was one of honor. On the opposite side of the table, was a seat carved from the single trunk of a tree, which appeared to be the throne of the soon-to-be king.

"...And they are the ones walking around showing more skin than many of the tavern wenches I used to know." Once again, the knight's gaze began following another woman.

Lancelot leaned over to whisper jokingly with Arthur. "I see even death has not changed him."

Arthur hummed and nodded. Gwaine did appear to be enjoying himself, which he found odd. He recalled Leon making a mention of the ladies' man having found someone to possibly settle down with. While Gwaine was certainly a flirt, he was loyal to a fault. Perhaps, the knight understood that after years of being gone the woman had probably moved on. But, Arthur found it hard to believe that Gwaine would simply forget about her.

His curiosity got the better of him, and Arthur asked, "What was the name of that lady you saved? The one just before Camlann." He was unprepared for the sudden darkness that clouded his friend's face.

Downing the entire contents of the cup, Gwaine's shoulders stiffened and he slammed the cup on the table. "Her name was 'Traitorous Bitch.'" He stood up sharply and looked around the celebrations. "Nature calls."

The other three men shared a look of shock and concern. Elyan was about to call out to Gwaine, when a horn blast sounded in the distance.

The drums fell silent. The dancers ceased their movements. Every druid in the area paused..it was as if the entire gathering was holding its breath.

Another horn answered the first from the other side. Arthur turned and watched as a group of men broached the rise of the hill.

"Maiden, we come to you, asking for an audience. Will you hear our words?" A man with a strong voice called out. His words carried on the wind, across the meadow.

"The Maiden will hear the words of your people." A woman's voice, deep and smooth, said from the place of the first horn blast.

The man began speaking again, but this time his words were foreign to Arthur and his knights. The language of the Old Religion and magic flowed from his lips. Five others stood around him, including one man whose mere presence seemed to hold Arthur's attention. From the distance they were at, he couldn't make out anything of the man's face; obscured by paint and shadowed by a headdress that appeared to be the head and antlers of a young buck. Swirling dark lines, tattoos or paint, wound down his arms and over his chest. A loincloth and leather sandals were the only articles of actual clothing he wore.

The woman across the field called back in the same mystical language. Behind her, stood what might have been a young woman, Arthur supposed. Her face was covered by a veil, and other women surrounded her, like handmaidens to a queen.

"Arthur, the Stag is allowed one companion to assist him. He has requested that you be the one to join him in the hunt. Do you accept?" Iseldir asked quietly.

Arthur had been mesmerized by the man on the hill, and hadn't notice when the druid had joined him. Tearing his eyes away, he turned to Iseldir. "Why me?"

Iseldir gave a small smile. "It is a great honor, that out of all the men here, he would choose you. I feel your acceptance would go a long way in finalizing the restoration of peace between our peoples...especially, with the dark times that lay ahead."

Glancing back up at the hill, Arthur could feel the man in the headdress watching him carefully. Despite his trepidation at being a part of such a ritual, he realized the hidden meaning in the words. Since Elyan had disturbed the well years prior, Arthur had kept his promise to let the druids live peacefully. However, when he fell at Camlann, he had died knowing there was still much more to be done.

While over two years had passed since he met his fate, he now had a second chance to finish his task of bringing peace. He wondered briefly what Guinevere had done in his absence. Had she continued accepting the druids? Had she gone further in accepting magic? Did she know about Merlin's secret, or had it all come to a halt since that day?

He looked to his men. Gwaine's eyes shifted from the men to the women suspiciously. His hand resting loosely on the hilt of his sword. Elyan appeared lost with all that was going on, watching Arthur for a clue as to their next move. Only Lancelot still sat calmly beside the table, a thoughtful look on his face. His dark eyes met Arthur's and silently urged him to accept the offer.

Dark clouds dotted the horizon to the north, and they gave Arthur a sense of foreboding. He could either decline and hope he didn't offend the 'Stag', as Iseldir called him, or he could accept and...if nothing else...at least have a chance to hunt once more, before that darkness engulfed them all.

He raised his head to the Stag, suddenly aware than everyone in the field was looking to him, waiting for the answer. With an exaggerated nod, Arthur gave his acceptance, and cheers erupted.

* * *

The hunt was odd. That was the only way Arthur could describe it to himself.

He'd changed out of his chainmail into more comfortable clothing for easier...and quieter...movement. Thankfully, it was much less revealing, and certainly more normal, than the loin cloth his companion was wearing. He tossed the spear lightly in his palm. It was well made, and nicely weighted, but it was not his personal choice for a weapon, unless they were hunting boar. His fingers itched for a crossbow.

The two men crept silently through the forest. That was another thing that struck him as weird. He'd been told by Iseldir that the man wasn't allowed to speak. While keeping quiet was the best method for a hunt on any occasion, Arthur found he greatly missed the prattling and clumsy antics of his best friend.

His mind began to wander, wondering what Merlin was up to these days. Asking the druid had been no help. It didn't appear that Iseldir was able to give anything that resembled a straight answer when it came to that particular subject. Arthur hoped that Merlin was still in Camelot, and at Guinevere's side. He couldn't wait to get back there himself and see his beautiful wife.

Opening his mouth, he started to ask the man with him, if he knew anything about the state of affairs in the kingdom. He closed it with an audible snap. Now was not the time to think about such things. He reminded himself to be respectful of his fellow hunter's situation. If this hunt was successful, the man would be the Druid King, someone he would need as a possible ally in the coming weeks.

He still didn't know if what the lady in the boat told him was true. Morgana may have been returned through the use of dark magic. He had no reason to distrust her, but the further away from that moment he got, the more he found himself questioning his new purpose. Before the boat had reached the shore, Arthur had felt and remembered things from more than one past life.

The knowledge of his past incarnations, however, had begun to slip further away from him. Arthur knew they were real, but each time he tried to grasp a memory, it fled further out of his reach; back into the mist that had surrounded the lake.

Finally, he couldn't take the silence any longer. "So...you hunt here often?" He asked, just to fill the void.

The Hunter spared him a brief glance. His only answer was a half-formed smirk and a shake of his head.

There was something oddly familiar about the Hunter, but each time Arthur thought he'd figured something out, he mentally talked his way away from the idea.

The man was naked, as Arthur had seen from the field, save the tribal gear of the leather loincloth, sandals, and headdress. He could see now the dark decorations on the man's skin was paint made to look like vines. On his chest was a large sunburst design. Under the pigment of the paint, though, Arthur could see there was a scar in a similar shape. Whether it was purposeful, or due to some prior injury, he couldn't begin to guess.

Arthur had to chuckle silently, thankful that his crowns had always been made of gold. The one the Hunter wore, was a single head from a young buck, complete with antlers and most of the neck, which draped down the back of the man's neck, and over his shoulders. The face of the deer fell slightly over the man's brows, and left his face in shadows.

What could be seen of the man's face, was coated in paint, including false eyes decorating his outer eyelids. The irises had been colored gold, and were a strong contrast to the deep blue of the man's natural eyes...Eyes that Arthur felt he should know.

"Have we met before?" He asked, figuring even a head nod would be less disturbing than the silence.

The man turned away from Arthur and stifled a snort.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" Arthur rolled his eyes. He dearly hoped that this man wasn't someone who had been wronged by his father's Purge. If that was the case, then Arthur knew making a good impression here was even more important than he had anticipated. "If I, or my family, caused you any pain in the past..."

He was cut off when the Hunter held up his hand and pointed through the trees. Arthur watched in awe, as the man moved off without a sound. He wondered if the man had been trained his entire life for hunting, or if there was something more mystical about his abilities.

Ahead of them, through a small break in the trees, stood the most magnificent stag Arthur had ever laid eyes on. The antlers were amazing, and each tine was a perfect mirror of its opposite. The coat was a shimmering russet brown. As far as he could tell, there wasn't a single scar or blemish on him. He was, by far, the largest of his kind the king had ever seen.

Carefully, Arthur moved up beside the Hunter. The other man tensed, spear in his hand, and seemed suddenly uneasy. The shift wasn't lost on Arthur, and he began to wonder if the Hunter actually had a clue what he was doing. The wind was wrong. If they moved now, the stag would catch their scent and flee into the undergrowth of the old forest before they had a chance.

He debated with himself for a moment. This was not Arthur's hunt, but it was painfully obvious that this druid hunter didn't have the knowledge of game the way Arthur did. He tapped the Hunter on the shoulder, and leaned in close to whisper, "We should move around to the west, if we want to take him."

The Hunter relaxed and nodded his acceptance of the plan. He willingly allowed Arthur to lead the way.

Carefully skirting the small glade, Arthur led them to a better position. He motioned for the Hunter to stop there, while he stepped away to find a different angle.

The stag lifted his head, as if sensing their approach. Arthur saw the other man strain and lift his spear. The blond man quickly gestured for the Hunter to hold, and was grateful when the man obeyed. Once again, his mind drifted to his friend, but he shook the thought away. If Merlin had been there, the stag would have been long gone before they even reached this glade, as would have any other sign of game.

Coming back to the moment, Arthur held his breath and waited. The other man was an enigma. Since Arthur first met him, he'd seemed confident and skillful, now he was...well, not. He couldn't put his finger on it. The druid hunter was just...odd.

The stag dipped his head, relaxing once more to grazing in the grove. Nodding once, both Arthur and the Hunter took aim, and cast their spears.

 


	19. Beltane, Part 3 of 6

"I can't believe we had to eat a piece of the raw heart!"

"Arthur, you were not required to partake in that part of the ritual." Iseldir said, barely holding back his amusement.

"...But, he said..." Arthur pointed to the Hunter, walking ahead of them with another group of druids, who were carrying the carcass of the stag they had downed.

"He did not say anything, I assure you, Arthur. He simply offered you a piece and you took it."

"Does this sort of ritual happen often with the druid people?" Arthur asked, trying to sidestep his obvious embarrassment.

The elder druid patted his shoulder. "No. This is the first time the stag has been brought down in over eighty years. The last time was the Druid King who advised King Ambrosius. Others have tried, but the stag would either fail to be found, or would flee before he could be taken."

"So, what now?"

"He has proven he can provide for his family. Now, he will participate in the Great Marriage Rite with the Maiden Huntress. If the Goddess accepts him, he shall receive the mark of the Triskelion."

"I thought all druids had the mark? Like they were born with it, or something."

"No. When a child is born among our people, there is no mark. They are blessed one year after their naming. If the Goddess wills it, her mark will appear then."

"...And if it doesn't?"

"They are still part of our people. We do not cast them out simply for not bearing the mark. Most, however, do go on to live elsewhere, such as Camelot. We maintain ties with them if they wish, or leave them be if that is their desire."

"So, what is the difference between your Goddess, and say...the Triple Goddess?"

"There is no difference, really. What was the difference between the Queen of Camelot to the common people, and the woman named Guinevere to whom you were married?"

"She was the same woman." Arthur's face scrunched in confusion.

"Precisely, but each person views her differently; calls her by a different name or title. In the end, she is still the same woman...much the same with the Goddess. She has many faces and many names. She is known differently to each person. The Triple Goddess of the Priestesses who once inhabited the Isle of the Blessed, has three distinct aspects. Meanwhile, we see Her as being a single Goddess at different places in Her life. There is a young woman among our tribe, who does not bear the mark of the druid, but is the last daughter of a High Priestess, and was born from the Great Rite. She could tell you more."

Arthur rolled his shoulders uneasily. He wasn't sure how he felt about knowing there was someone with a connection to the High Priestess of the Triple Goddess so close. "I have never seemed to have much luck when it comes to the High Priestesses."

Iseldir's laughter caught him off-guard. "Perhaps, you have had more luck than you think." Anything more to their conversation was brought to an abrupt halt, when a young boy came rushing toward them, looking for Iseldir.

* * *

Try as she might, Sefa had a hard time keeping her mind on the girl in front of her. Her eyes kept drifting up to the hill where she had last seen the Hunter. She wasn't sure if she was praying for him to succeed or fail in the hunt. It was selfish of her, she knew, to wish for the latter, but he was her husband...even if he had been forced to give up his identity for the ritual. If the hunt was a success he would be brought back and paraded through the area, before being led to a cave that housed the Maiden Huntress.

Her stomach twisted with a bit of jealousy. Sefa had to remind herself time and time again that it was only for this one night. The outcome would change their lives forever, but in a good way. It would give the druid people something that had been missing from their culture for too long; something that had been stolen from them before she had been born. She and Merlin had spoken long about it.

He didn't want to be king of anything. Even the title of Lord, given to him by Guinevere, never seemed to fit for the man who had grown up as a peasant. Destiny seemed to enjoy pushing the boundaries of his comfort. Sefa's father had tried, and failed in the hunt. Even so, to complete the ritual, he had gone to the Maiden. She thought about the mask, now hanging next to the mantle in a house in Ealdor, and wondered if the girl waiting for the Hunter was wearing one similar.

In the end, it was she who had convinced Merlin to step up and accept the challenge. She pushed away her doubts, once more, and turned back to Liliane.

The raven-haired girl, so much like her father, was currently placing ribbons and flowered garlands around Aithusa's tail. The little dragon appeared to be sleeping in the grass and sunshine, but every so often, her tail would twitch and the strips of colored cloth would scatter. Sefa guessed that the little creature did it on purpose, as it would cause Liliane to giggle and bounce excitedly.

For all their differences, the two were like sisters. Not only did they rarely leave one another's side, but they had seemed to develop some odd babbling form of communication. She had heard that twin children did something similar, and at least mentally, the two were as close as twins. On occasion, it frustrated Sefa to no end, in attempting to teach one or both how to say simple words. They would try it, and then get sidetracked into their own variations that no one but themselves could begin to understand.

Merlin seemed able to follow it a bit, and had finally told Sefa that they appeared to be teaching each other the dragon language.  _"Fat lot of good that does me!" She had exclaimed, "How am I supposed to understand that?" His only response had been to shrug innocently._

Her hand went to her belly. Soon, she would be a mother of three...since she had begun thinking of the dragon as her child. She couldn't begin to imagine the trouble three of them would entangle themselves in, as they grew. It was getting later in the day, and she knew she would have to get the two girls some dinner soon, before the fires were lit for the evening ritual.

"Excuse me, but don't I know you?"

Sefa blinked away her daydreaming and looked up with a smile. Her pulse was immediately caught in her throat, and her mouth felt suddenly dry. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to form a single word of response. Fear held her frozen as the dark-skinned knight stood over her, with a scowl. Next to him, stood another knight. The brunette man's eyes were glaring at Aithusa. She could see their hands, inching closer to their weapons.

"You were my sister's maid, weren't you? The one who betrayed our king to Morgana."

"Please...the Queen has pardoned me. I was young and..."

She could tell from their faces they didn't believe her.

"That creature looks like a miniature version of the beast that attacked us at Camlann. I doubt it's coincidence finding one of Morgana's pets, and a traitor to Camelot in the same place."

Elyan crouched down and grabbed Sefa tightly by her elbow. "We don't want to cause any trouble here, girl, but that is a dangerous creature, and you need to be taken back to Camelot to pay for your crimes."

"The Queen knows me. She knows Aithusa...my husband..."

"Can join us, later...if he likes." Gwaine said, creeping towards the dragon. "I don't want the little one to get hurt, but you and the dragon will be coming with us." He began to reach for the creature's head.

Aithusa suddenly snapped, her slender neck whipping around and the sharp teeth cut deeply into Gwaine's arm. The dragon slid quickly in between the knight and Liliane, the ribbons scattering into the breeze.

 


	20. Beltane, Part 4 of 6

"Lancelot. What's going on?" Arthur asked his knight, when he arrived back at the celebrations. There was no longer the feeling of joy. Instead, a chill had seemed to descend upon the druids.

"I'm not certain. I was invited to one of the dances, and next thing I knew, someone was saying that there were knights, who had taken a woman at sword point." He began leading Arthur toward the area of the disturbance.

"No, you must come with us to complete the ritual. If you deviate now, all could be for naught!"

Arthur turned to see an elder druid, his face leathered and hardened with age, grasping feebly at the Hunter's arm. The younger man, like the stag, was lean and fit. He had no problems shaking off the elders hand.

Iseldir paused briefly and stood in front of the Hunter, baring his way. That only lasted for a moment, before the chieftain stepped aside with a nod of his head.

"Huh..." Lancelot mused, having also witnessed the exchange.

Arthur's brow rose, "What?"

"I have never seen him like this." Before Arthur could question his knight, Lancelot turned and continued to lead the way to where Gwaine and Elyan had last been seen. The Hunter was on their heels, despite the continued protests of the old druid.

The rumors flying around proved true. The area of the makeshift throne, where Elyan and Gwaine had been left, was surrounded by people. In the center, stood two men back-to-back. Arthur and the others pushed their way through, until they stood next to the wooden seat.

Across from them, Elyan had his sword out and pressed to the throat of a crying young woman, who he was holding tightly to his chest. Blood dripped from Gwaine's forearm. He held a wriggling, cloth-wrapped bundle with the injured arm, and his sword wa at the ready in his other hand.

"Gwaine. Elyan. What is the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded, keeping his voice low and even.

"Sire." Gwaine acknowledged with a nod. "You know that creature that attacked us at Camlann? We have one of its offspring."

"...And the maid who was working with Morgana to ambush our men in Ismere!" Elyan added vehemently. The woman in his arms whimpered.

"We were set up by coming here. She was probably sent to spy on us."

"Please...I have nothing to do with Morgana..." Her words were cut short, as Elyan's blade bit deeper into her neck.

Tilting his head slightly, Arthur evaluated the situation. He wasn't ready to believe that the druids had purposefully arranged this, neither would he disregard the words of his knights. "Iseldir?"

"She speaks the truth. Please tell your men to let them both go." The druid implored, "We are a peaceful people. You know this, Arthur."

Lancelot turned his head, scanning the gathered crowd. "Sire, I think it would be wise to do as he asks." Not a single druid held any sort of weapon. Many of them stood by stoically, awaiting the outcome. He looked at Arthur and saw a similar thought playing over the king's face. The rest of the druids stood by silently; their passive nature of accepting whatever fate brought them.

Arthur was reminded of when Iseldir had handed him the Cup of Life in exchange for the boy he had threatened. He wondered if the druids would try to barter for the traitor. Although, unlike that previous situation, Arthur was not here for anything specific.

Suddenly, the elder druid's voice cut through the awkward silence. "Why will you not listen to me. This is not your concern! The fate of our people hangs in the balance tonight. You must complete the ritual and go to the Maiden."

"No!" A deep voice roared out.

The gasps from the surrounding crowd told Arthur that the Hunter breaking his silence was outwardly more worrying to the druids, than the possibility of one of their own being threatened.

The elder cringed, "It was just one word. I'm certain the Goddess will forgive you for that. You have already proven your worth on the Hunt."

"Enough! I will not stand by and partake in the Ritual, when there are lives at stake!" The Hunter said loudly enough for all to hear. He turned to Arthur. "Tell your knights to release them."

While Arthur silently applauded the man for his conviction, he found himself once again torn by an odd feeling of familiarity. Deep inside, he knew this man...If he could just figure out how, it would save him quite a headache. Shifting his eyes back to the knights, he took another moment to evaluate the situation.

He recalled Guinevere telling him about her maidservant, upon his return from Ismere. She hadn't believed that the girl had wanted to betray Camelot...but, it had been her father, not Morgana, who the girl had been helping. He looked at Elyan and Gwaine, with his decision made. "Do as he says."

"Sire?!" Gwaine questioned angrily.

"Do it!"

Elyan reluctantly dropped his hold and lowered his weapon. Lancelot was there in an instant, to take his companion's sword and help the woman away. Gwaine still maintained his stance. He even squeezed his elbow against the wrapped creature, causing it to squawk in discomfort.

The Hunter's hand shot out. The fires of his magic burned brightly in his blue eyes. The bundle was snatched from Gwaine's grasp, and flew through the air toward the Hunter, who caught it easily.

Standing there, with his mouth agape, Gwaine stared at the man in disbelief.

"We were once great friends, you and I." The Hunter said, while carefully unwrapping the creature. Poking her head out, the little dragon cooed and nuzzled against the hunter's hand, before wiggling the rest of the way out and scurrying up to his shoulder. He smiled at the way she rubbed her head against his in gratitude. "I made many mistakes back then. Not introducing you to the dragons, was only one of them."

Gwaine stood with a perplexed look on his face, wondering who the man was. A glance at Arthur told him the king was entertaining the same thoughts. Lancelot was trying to hide a smirk. The black-haired knight shook his head and smiled at his companion's questioning gaze.

The old druid was dabbing his forehead in his sleeve, visibly upset and muttering about a failed ritual. Iseldir was attempting to calm the man. "Perhaps, now that the situation has been resolved, we should try to continue with..."

"No." Nimble as a goat, the Hunter jumped onto the throne, where he was above the rest of the crowd. The dragon took flight and landed gracefully on the back of the seat. "For too many years, the druid people have stood by, hidden in the shadows. There were those who sought to take the initiative and challenge those who sought to oppress us. While their choice of allies may have been faulty, and their methods ill-conceived, they were not wrong in their desires for a better time.

"I stood in those shadows and watched. It was a long road, but I rarely turned away from someone in need, even if it meant defending them with violence. I have made mistakes in the past, but I don't believe this will be counted among them."

A middle-aged man, who had been following the druid elder, stepped forward. His face was flushed with anger. "You dare call yourself one of us?! You do not even bear the mark of a druid. This ceremony is perhaps the single most important of all of our Rites, and you scoff at it. You have not lived among us your entire life. You have only scratched the surface of our ways! What gives you the right to disregard our sacred rituals? If you are to prove yourself to be worthy of wearing the mantle of the Druid King, you must set your personal feelings aside!"

The hunter scowled at the man. "I have taken down the Great Stag. I have helped to call forth the Goddess to bless our people. I do not believe laying with the Maiden this night will have any effect on our future. I will continue to serve, as I always have...giving guidance to the monarchy of Camelot, as well as protecting those I care for. I do not need a crown or a title among you, nor a mark to tell me who my people are.

"My feelings are what make me who I am. They always have been. Whether it was Sefa, or any other druid, I would have interfered, because that is who I am. I have watched too many suffer. I have witnessed too many atrocities to allow it to happen, just because it deviates from ritual or tradition. If that is not the type of king you wish me to be, then you can all go to hell."

The voice is what finally gave Arthur the last clue he had been searching for, and he smothered a smirk of recognition under his hand.

Somewhere in the crowd, a crone cackled gleefully. She was a shriveled, old hag, with wisps of thin, white hair. Her eyes bulged out of a leathery, wrinkled face. Two young men carried her on a litter, up to the throne. When she smiled, her mouth was all gums and lips. Carefully, the men lowered her to the ground.

Stepping out, one handed her a walking stick. Her voice croaked and it trembled with age. She spoke the language of the Old Religion, and beckoned the Hunter to her. As soon as he was close enough, her eyes glowed with magic, and words of power flowed from her cracked lips. The crone placed a hand on the Hunter's chest, just above his heart.

He hissed and yelped when the magic hit him, burning the flesh of his pectoral. When she removed her hand, a mark of the Triskelion was left. It glowed brightly. Mystical flames of red and green surrounded the dark swirls.

"You are still such a girl." Arthur snorted softly.

"...Better than being a prat." The Hunter replied, gingerly touching the new mark and whining, "Ow..."

"The Goddess has spoken!" Iseldir said reverently. His eyes were on the elder and the other druid who had been making a fuss. "We have no need for the remainder of the ritual. Send a runner to the Maiden's enclave and offer our apologies. Tell them of what has transpired."

The chieftain shared a silent message with the crone and the elder, before turning to the Hunter. He took the Hunter's wrist and held it up. "All hail the Druid King!"

Someone nearby took up the chant, as the crowd released a collective breath of relief. Cheers rose up, and spread throughout the druids. Soon, the festive atmosphere began returning, and the crowd started to disperse; passing on from those closest to others further out, the story of what had just happened.

"Who would have thought...well, certainly not me, but that's beside the point...that I would die, and you would become a king? A naked one, at that. I thought I told you not to change, Merlin?"

The Hunter ducked his head and gave Arthur a sheepish smile. He shrugged...too overwhelmed by everything that had just taken place to reply. He turned and held out his hand to the woman who Elyan had been holding.

Sefa rushed into his arms, grateful for more than just his embrace.

"Are you alright?" He asked, tipping her face upward, so he could look at her neck.

She nodded, "Just...shaken a bit."

"Where's Liliane?"

"Hunith was nearby. I told her to get Liliane to safety, and away from all of this when it happened."

"Good." He muttered with relief. Dipping down, he kissed Sefa gently...much to the astonishment of the four knights who stood nearby.

The headdress shifted, and Merlin winced. He released Sefa and glanced over at Iseldir, gesturing exhaustedly to the cumbersome piece. The druid nodded and smiled. Merlin didn't need to ask twice.

"My love, would you mind helping...?" He asked, reaching his hands up to the awkward piece of costume.

She giggled and nodded; carefully removing the mask and antlers.

Merlin shook his hair out, and he heard Arthur choking in surprise. He'd been curious all day...wondering what his former king would think...once he discovered who was under the mask. Dark hair fell free of the buckskin, settling to just below his shoulders. Merlin knew he must have looked rather odd to his old friends. His hair was decorated with feathers and braided with beads. For the ritual, parts of his scalp had been shaved, and the bare skin was painted with the same vines that decorated his arms and torso.

"Merlin..." Lancelot laughed. He moved forward and met his old friend in a hearty embrace. "It is good to see you...although, I never expected it to be  _this_  much of you."

"I've missed you. All of you." He said quietly. He held open his arms to Arthur, who rocked back on his heels. "Aw...can't I have a hug?"

Scowling, Arthur appeared as if he was going to start backing away, but changed his mind. He accepted the hug, clapping Merlin's naked back sharper than he needed to. " _You_  made me eat a raw deer heart!"

"Brotherly bonding of two hunters." Merlin stated defensively. "I thought you enjoyed the hunt."

"I did. Tell me, though, when in the hell did you become so agile and learn to actually keep your mouth shut? Also, what is up with that hair? I thought I ordered you to never change?"

"Yeah, but since when did I ever listen to anything you said?...And don't be insulting the hair. My wife seems to like it." He winked at Sefa, who smirked and bit her lip.

Arthur glanced over at Guinevere's former maid. "My deepest sympathies for marrying such an idiot."

Merlin bit his tongue, as he turned to Gwaine and Elyan. The latter's face was a steely gaze, but he met the stare full on. "Gwen pardoned Sefa, before she and I were married...just so you know." He smiled lovingly at his wife. "She saved me...after you were all gone. What happened, back then, was a mistake made out of love for her father, not out of a calloused hatred for Camelot, like it was for so many others. I hope you can understand that. Morgana was a master at manipulation. She preyed on the emotions of those she used. My wife was only one of those who fell into her trap."

Elyan mulled the information over in his mind. He began to understand just what the woman had been trying to tell him. Reluctantly, the dark knight held out his arm and nodded. It was a small step, but it was all he was willing to give. At least, until he it heard from his sister directly.

Merlin accepted the gesture. He could appreciate the knight's predicament, when he reminded himself that Elyan had fallen with the knowledge that Sefa's actions had preceded his sister's capture by only a few weeks.

Moving to Gwaine was the hardest steps Merlin had yet to take. The knight's eyes shifted from his friend to the woman, and then to the small dragon...still sitting on the back of the throne. Her pale blue eyes blinked rapidly, and she opened her mouth to hiss at him.

"Aithusa." Merlin warned her. Straightening, she shook out her wings in disdain, but didn't move from her perch. "I'm sorry I never got a chance to tell you about who I really am, Gwaine. It was the hardest secret I ever had to keep."

Gwaine's eyes were filled with tears. He nodded silently and gave Merlin a stiff embrace.

"I hope you can forgive me, someday." Merlin placed his hand over the bite on his friend's arm. With a soft word, his eyes glowed and healed the wound.

Sniffling loudly, Gwaine shook his hair out of his eyes. He flexed his hand, noticing that the injury had completely disappeared. There were so many things he wanted to ask. He had always known Merlin had secrets, but magic was not something he had expected. It had become obvious that neither Arthur nor Lancelot were surprised by the revelation, and he felt awkward to have been left out of the loop. After a few moments, he nodded, "Yeah. Me, too."

"Papa!" The little girl raced up to Merlin on wobbly legs. Following a few steps behind her was an older woman in a peasant dress, with a green scarf covering her head.

Merlin smiled at his mother, as he scooped the raven-haired child up into his arms, holding her tightly. Sefa was immediately next to them, and Merlin wrapped his arms around both his girls; kissing them and murmuring soft words of comfort.

Before he had a chance to talk to his mother, Iseldir placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Emrys, as the Druid King - it is your place to light the fires of Beltane."

Merlin nodded. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, as he turned toward Gwaine. He held the little girl out for the knight to take. "This is my daughter, Liliane. Mind watching her for a bit?" He smirked and leaned in, winking conspiratorially. "I probably don't need to tell you, but she is like a magnet when it comes to the ladies."

Sefa guffawed and shook her head. "That explains the harem." She mumbled so low that only Merlin really heard what she had said.

Gwaine's brow pinched, as he took the wiggling child. "After all that's happened, you actually trust me with her?"

"I've always trusted you, Gwaine, more than you could begin to realize. I didn't want to put you in danger, which is why I never trusted myself enough to tell you everything." Merlin smiled when he saw the first glimmers of his old friend beginning to stir behind the brown eyes.

Hunith moved forward, and Merlin accepted her warm embrace. "I'm so proud of you, my son," she whispered.

He held onto her tightly for a moment, his happiness that she had been there to witness this moment, filling his soul. After a moment he pulled back and smiled. Merlin held out his hand to Sefa. "Shall we?"

His wife accepted the offered hand, and together they walked to the center of the nearby stone circle.

Two piles were set up, ready to burn. They were meant to represent the eyes of the Goddess, and had the Great Rite happened as it was supposed to, Merlin would have found himself standing with the Huntress to light them. His smile stretched across his face, as he squeezed Sefa's fingers.

It wouldn't have felt right to not have her by his side for this moment. They shared a connection that went far beyond what he ever could have imagined. Merlin took it as a sign, that even the Goddess appeared to feel that way. She had brought Arthur and the others back at the time when they were needed, and their interference had changed the course of events during the ritual. It created a deviation that lead him away from the Maiden Huntress, and back to the woman he loved.

He took a deep breath, as the realization began to set in. Following in his grandfather's footsteps, he was now the Druid King. His life had changed in more ways than he would have ever imagined, but deep down, he found he was still the same man and it lifted his spirits to a new height.

They came to a stop between the unlit pyres. Sefa moved in front of him, her back pressing against his chest. Calls came from the quarters, as each direction was invoked. As the last vestiges of twilight brought darkness over the circle, he knew there was no need to draw down the Goddess. The Gods and Goddesses had already made their presence known this day.

Intertwining their fingers, Merlin took the lead and raised their arms together. He felt the magic rise between them. " _Forbearnan._ " He whispered.

The carefully constructed bonfires on either side, flared to life. Drums began beating, and the spiral dance was taken up around the circle. Merlin turned his wife around and picked her up, his strong arms easily holding her around her thighs. Chanting and singing surrounded them. He looked deep into her eyes, grateful that despite the close call earlier, she was safe.

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. Her worries of him having to lay with another woman were put to rest, as were any doubts she may have had of him leaving her behind for the mantle of the Druid King. He lowered her to the ground, and she smiled coyly.

They looked over at Gwaine, with Liliane in his lap. The girl was pulling his hair into his face, and giggling loudly each time he shook his head to get it away from his eyes.

"I'll think they'll be fine together for a while. If not, Aithusa can always bite him again." Merlin said.

Sighing and biting her lip, Sefa was reluctant to go too far away from her daughter, after the earlier confrontation.

He took her chin in his fingers and gently forced her to look into his eyes. "Seriously. They understand now, and look..." Merlin's eyes led her to Iseldir, and a few others sitting and standing near the knights. "They won't let anything happen. I asked them to keep watch over the girls. I'll know the moment there is any trouble."

She finally nodded and allowed him to lead her into the crowd, where they joined hands with the dancers.

 


	21. Beltane, Part 5 of 6

"Sire, are you alright?" Elyan asked, as he came to sit next to Arthur.

The blond man was staring at the fires. He had been awed by the power that emanated from his former servant, when they had been magically lit. However, his mind was not on the fires. He watched with a strange sense of longing, when Merlin had lifted Sefa triumphantly and the passion they shared in their kiss. The love between the was an amazing thing to behold, but it left Arthur with a sense of deep sorrow for the life he used to have.

"Nothing's the same anymore, is it?" He asked redundantly. "So much has changed for Merlin. He's jumping around like some wild creature, almost completely naked...not to mention, married and a child. I hardly recognize him anymore. I wonder what else is different."

Elyan nodded, "You're thinking of my sister."

"Yes." He admitted, "...and the kingdom. I..."

"Ugh! Really?" Gwaine exclaimed. He was holding the little girl out at arm's length, with a look of disgust on his face. Below the child was a smelly, dark pile of mush.

"Well, Gwaine certainly isn't any different." Elyan said with a chuckle, recalling the knight's ability to find himself in messy situations.

The older woman, who Merlin had hugged earlier, came over to the knight with a smile, and offered to take the girl. "Children and their ability to make messes...I remember her father at this age...I could never get him to keep his pants on either."

A young lass with bright, strawberry-blond hair, had been hovering nearby. Blushing and twittering, she came forward and offered to help Gwaine out of his armor so it could be cleaned.

Arthur noted the moment of hesitation in the once promiscuous knight. He recalled Gwaine's answer to the name of the woman he had been taken with, came back. 'Traitorous bitch.' The questions Arthur had, were once again put away for another time. He watched Gwaine take a drink of the mead in front of him before putting on his best smile, and following the lass off through the crowds.

He brought his head up to see Lancelot's gaze on him. Looking away, he tried to hide his fear that he might soon feel the same type of heartache Lancelot may have experienced years prior. Arthur yearned to find out what had happened to Guinevere, but at the same time he dreaded the outcome. Deep in his bones, he knew he wasn't prepared for what he might discover. Were it not for the darkness of night, Arthur would have contemplated leaving for Camelot straight away.

Downing the rest of his own drink, his eyes scanned the dancers around the bonfires. He'd long lost sight of Merlin and Sefa amidst all the Beltane celebrations. "Gwaine has changed. Merlin has changed... _Everything_  has changed, Elyan. Tomorrow, we head to Camelot, and see just how much."

* * *

Away from the people and the fires, the moon cast a blue glow through the treetops, dappling the ground with shadows that danced under the swaying leaves of the forest canopy.

Merlin paused at the edge of a small niche. His heart drummed in his chest, in time with the faint echoes of the festival behind them. He knew this place well. It was the very spot he had come to lose himself, when he had lost Arthur...it was also the same place the Goddess has found him, not once, but twice. The first through Sefa, who had pulled him out of the darkness, and the second when he and Percival had found Liliane alone in the ramshackle cottage where Sefa had been living.

It seemed fitting to revisit the remote clearing, as his life reached another major turning point.

Slender fingers wrapped around his forearm and then slid down to grasp his hand. He relaxed at the familiar touch. "Two and half years to the day." He said, knowing he didn't need to explain the significance. The seasons and weather had washed away any sign of the tumultuous darkness that had engulfed him in the small glade. When he had originally found it, he had felt so lost. He had come here, expecting...hoping...to die. Sefa had given him a reason to live.

Their first encounter was faceless and primal, with no thought or emotions to drive them. It had been a need for release from their self-inflicted prisons. Life had been created on that stormy Samhain night...one that had blossomed into a fulfilling existence beyond what either of them could have imagined.

Like the Spiral Dance around the fire, life wove in and out of itself; never ending, but never the same. They had come back to the center...to where they had started. He looked down at Sefa. Her dark auburn hair was decorated similar to his own. They were no longer the servants to a king and queen, needing to maintain their appearance to reflect that of their masters'. Now, they were servants to the Gods of Nature; a step back into the wild and earthy heritage of the druid people.

Merlin mused to himself, how right it all felt. All of his life, he had to hide who he was...just as he now knew his own mother had hid her heritage. It was a matter of survival. The lies and deceit; walking in the shadows of others...it was needed then...but, no longer. He'd never felt so free; so complete.

Brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he bent down to kiss the trail left by his fingers and heard her breath quicken in anticipation. In this dark place that once housed a man, mad with grief, he had found himself, through her. She had taken his hand and his body, and led him out into the light of the druid's fires. At the time, he never thought he would discover the identity of his saviour.

He felt the trembling pulse under her skin and suckled gently, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure.

Twisting her head, she met his lips and opened her mouth to his, relishing the way their tongues danced with each other. His hands moved across her shoulders, sliding down her back and pulling her tightly against his bare chest. There was a fear inside of him, as if any looser grip and she would slip away. Her arms draped around his neck.

The night she had found him, his own blood coated his hands and face. Merlin was more creature than man; caked in dirt and starving for food, as well as companionship.

Her hands found his face, and her eyes fluttered. Her thumbs trailed lightly over the faint scarring that was now only visible from this close.

She had been a maiden, until that night. It was the first time the Goddess had fully come to her and used her completely. Sefa had given into the call willingly, as her father had instructed. She had thought it was only to save him, but instead the changes that night had brought became so much more.

It was almost as if he could feel her trepidation, and his kiss deepened. He wanted her this night, not the Goddess. His touch alone, gave her the knowledge that he had the power to keep it that way. Most people would be afraid of turning down a Goddess, as he had with the Maiden earlier. He seemed to take it in stride, and the mark on his chest was proof that he was favored. Perhaps, though, he hadn't needed to lay with the Maiden Huntress after the hunt. It seemed that aspect of the ritual had already been fulfilled.

Between their heated bodies, she felt him rise underneath the loincloth. It reminded her of just how little he had worn all day. Just days ago, the people had begun to gather for the celebrations. Merlin had been led away and blindfolded. She understood that he was being taken to start the cleansing rituals, and had suspected she wouldn't see him again, until the after the dawn on Beltane morning.

When the challenge to the Maiden had been issued, her eyes had been drawn automatically up to the crest of the hill. She almost hadn't recognized her own husband. The primal Hunter was a magnificent sight to behold. Her pulse had caught in her throat, and she had felt a warm tightening, between her legs.

Throughout the day, she had tensed each time she heard another person, especially the women, talking about the Hunter, and how lucky the Maiden was. Attempting to distract herself hadn't worked. It was only when she thought her life was truly in danger that she didn't think about him lying with another woman. Yet, even then, she wanted nothing more than to see him; to have him come bursting through the crowd to save her...and he had.

One of her hands found its way downward. She teased the dark hair that started below his navel, and then followed it down to the scrap of concealing leather below his waist.

He broke off the kiss with a moan of satisfaction as her fingers wrapped around his length. Her lips brushed over his bare skin, making their way down his chest. She paused to trace her fingers over the druid mark before kissing it. While the flames had faded, it still shimmered in the moonlight with a golden aura.

"My King." She said softly, kissing it again.

"My Goddess." His eyes were deep wells of heated emotion, as they met hers.

Her fingertips circled the muscles of his chest. The pad of her thumb grazed his taut nipple, before she moved her lips to it. Sucking gently, she took it between her teeth. Merlin's hands clenched on her shoulders, giving her a hint of a push that silently asked her to continue moving down.

Sefa ran her tongue over his lean body, as she knelt in front of him and pushed the loincloth aside. Sliding her hand gently from the top, she exposed the tip of his shaft from the surrounding skin. Her eyes rolled upwards to watch his face, when her tongue found the sensitive eye, already weeping in anticipation. The drops glistened like moonstones in the dim starlight.

Stroking lightly along the base of his staff, she closed her eyes and hummed, while taking the head into her mouth. His fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her onto him.

She ran her tongue in circles around him, and felt him tremble. She loved the taste of him, not to mention the pleasure she knew he found from her touches. Moving in and out, her mouth stroked him, bringing him to the brink, before he stopped her.

He bit his lip, as he pulled away from her. His heart was pounding in his ears. After having been awake for days, and subjected to rituals meant to cleanse every part of him...inside and out...as well as the adrenaline of the hunt, his body had built up a tension unlike anything he had ever experienced. He wanted her...wanted to be inside her. Her ministrations fanned the flames of the primal fire that burned in his soul.

For too long he had held back the floodgates of his desire. Moving around behind her, he lifted her skirt and his fingers found the sweet, moist well between her legs. He wasted no time in pushing his fingertips into her depths. She was ready for him, as she always was.

Positioning himself on his knees, he bent her forward and guided his shaft to her entrance. Leaving his fingers at the hardened nub of her pleasure center, he sheathed himself inside her to the hilt.

Sefa cried out in ecstasy, as he started moving in and out. Their lovemaking was animalistic and raw. She had never known him to be this eager, nearly to the point of forceful. Low, feral growls came from deep in his throat. She felt the brush of tingling magic from his fingers at her entrance, and her body clenched tightly around him, screaming his name in the sudden climax.

With a final desperate plunge, he followed her over the edge.

* * *

Sefa shivered and drew her arms around herself. "Neither of us thought to bring a cloak." She stated through chattering teeth.

Merlin put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder vigorously. "At least you have proper clothing on."

She couldn't resist reaching around his back and patting his exposed butt cheek. His skin was covered in goosebump. The paint and the loincloth offered him no protection against the cold, night air. "We'll be back in front of the fires soon enough."

Once beyond the trees, they realized the moon had barely reached its zenith. Merlin had thought, and hoped it had been later, and he could use it as an excuse to just go to sleep. It was still fairly early in the night when they arrived at their tent, and found Liliane sleeping soundly. Hunith sat quietly nearby, she raised her eyes when they entered.

Merlin felt a wave of self-consciousness about his current appearance. "Um..." He started, but his embarrassment stuttered his words, and he reached for his trousers.

Hunit chuckled in understanding. "I think I will go listen to the drums for a while. It has been many years, since I attended a night like this."

Smiling in thanks, he promised her that he would see her in the morning. While, Merlin wanted nothing more than to relax, he felt it was past time that he sat down to speak with Arthur. He untied the loincloth and tossed it aside, before slipping on his trousers. He started to reach into his belongings for a shirt as well, and then paused.

"What is it?"

He chuckled and remembered Arthur's discomfort earlier at seeing him nearly naked. "Just deciding on what to wear, since I feel I should go speak with the king."

Sefa picked up his coat and helped him into it. She gave him a look that spoke volumes. "You are the 'king,' my love. You can wear whatever you like."

"...Or, whatever my wife tells me to wear." He deadpanned, reaching for his boots.

"Isn't that the same thing?" She slapped his arm playfully. "Go. I'm going to tidy up a bit and spend some time with Liliane. After what happened earlier...I..."

His arms instantly wrapped around her shoulders from behind. Although, he hadn't forgotten earlier events, it wasn't until that moment that it all began to really sink in. "Are you sure you're alright?" His lips touched her neck.

Her fingers reached up to the place on her throat, where Elyan's sword had been. "They didn't know. It will take some time for them to adjust, I imagine."

Merlin could hear the tremble in her voice, as she tried to make excuses for the knights. He turned her around and offered her a gentle kiss. "You're right. I am a king, and kings can do as they please. So," he said, with a smile as he took the coat off. "...I am going to stay right here with you. The drums will awaken us before dawn anyway. I'll have plenty of time to speak with Arthur and the others tomorrow."

 


	22. Beltane, Part 6 of 6

Lancelot was the first to awaken. He could sense the new day in the air. It was the first true morning of his new lease on life. He smiled at the relevance. Beltane was the halfway mark between the spring and summer solstices. By this day each year, the crops were planted, and animals had been born. It was a celebration of a time of rest from the spring preparations. All that was left, was to tend to the fields and watch as life grew, before the harvest time came. He, and the others, had been brought back and 'planted' in this place, in order to balance the wrongs and weed out the evil they believed was coming.

Arthur had filled in Elyan and him on all that had transpired after their deaths: Agravaine's betrayal, and Lancelot's body returning...of which the knight only had fuzzy, nightmarish-like memories of. He felt his stomach sink, as Elyan mentioned Lancelot's own part in the betrayal, and the subsequent banishment of Gwen. It was clear that the darker-skinned man had been just as hurt from the event as Arthur had been.

Today was a new day for all of them. He stretched and glanced around the tent that had been provided for them. Gwaine had never rejoined them, and the three men had spent a good amount of time, before they slept, contemplating what had happened to their friend after Camlann. It was clear that he had died tragically, though none of them had a clue as to the circumstances.

Bird-song from the nearby forests began tweeting praises for the coming morning, and he could hear people in other tents nearby, beginning to stir. From the distance, he felt more than heard the soft rhythms of drums. Soon after, Arthur and Elyan started to awaken.

They made their way out of the tent, Arthur's stomach was grumbling almost as the loudly as the drums, which had increased in volume, as the glow of the coming dawn crested along the horizon. It became obvious that most of the druids were all heading in the same direction, toward a hill on the eastern edges of the camp.

At first, they had thought the drums to be that of an oncoming battle, but the knights couldn't understand why everyone, including very sleepy children were gathering on the rise.

It took a few moments of scanning the crowd, before Lancelot pointed out a familiar man.

"Arthur. Lancelot. Elyan." Merlin greeted them, as they came along side. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and Sefa in front of him, holding a yawning little girl.

"Merlin. What's going on here?"

"Drumming up the sun." The former manservant responded. He inhaled deeply of the pre-dawn air, and pulled his wife and child closer. Over the previous month, in preparation for the Rituals, Merlin had become increasingly intuned with the world around him. He felt the shift in the land, as the morning drew nearer.

Snorting softly, Arthur wondered about the intelligence of the druids. "Don't you all know, the sun will rise without all this fanfare?"

Determined not to let the former king ruin his mood, Merlin said simply, "That's not the point, Arthur."

When the blond man asked, "What is the point, then?" Merlin only smiled.

The drums maintained their steady beat, as the first rays of the sun broke the horizon. Somewhere in the crowd, someone started chanting. Closing his eyes, Merlin opened up his magic to accept the gift of light.

Arthur shifted and glanced at his knights. It was apparent that this ritual was important to the druids, though he was still confused about it. Elyan appeared to have little reaction, but Arthur could see the sorrow in the man's eyes. He wondered if his friend was thinking about the druid boy's spirit.

Lancelot turned toward the rising sun, chuckling softly at his king's discomfort. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, as the brightness grew. "What's that?"

The concern in his voice caused Merlin to open his eyes and follow his friend's outstretched hand.

Out of the light, a silhouetted form of a bird rose into the sky. He snickered, "That looks like Aithusa...my little dragon. She almost looked like a phoenix there for a moment." The dragon circled and dove in the cool air.

"Then, what is that?" Lancelot asked. He was still squinting at the horizon.

On the ground in front of the rising sun was the form of a man, walking toward them. Arthur had to chuckle, when he finally recognized the man. "That, is a phoenix."

"I thought that was Gwaine?" Elyan gave his king a confused look.

Merlin was studying Arthur's face. He knew Arthur, and he knew that his friend had little knowledge of magical creatures. Casting his mind back through his memories, he recalled the only phoenix he'd ever seen. White on a black field...the crest of Tristan Du Bois. His face lit up, as the realization dawned on him.

Gwaine's hidden secret of being a noble, and Arthur's urgent quest to free him from Morgana in Ismere. It all made sense to him now.

Arthur shrugged, "Well, the son of a phoenix, anyway."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will tie into a companion story I am working on for the Chronicles of Camelot Challenge from HoC, based on my drabble for the word "diabolical." Be looking for the Son of the Phoenix in the coming months.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment or a kudo!

**Author's Note:**

> For the most up-to-date postings of this series, see my profile on fanfiction.net and theheartofcamelot.com
> 
> Index of Holidays:
> 
> Samhain: Chapter 1, The first Halloween after Camlann. Plagued by spirits, the Goddess sends someone to pull Merlin out of the darkness.
> 
> Yule: Chapter 2-9, Over a year later, Merlin is faced with a choice: to stand by Queen Guinevere, or follow a new path away from Camelot
> 
> Imbolc: Chapter 10, Another year and on what is supposed to be a joyous occasion, signs in the ashes of St. Brigid's Day warn of things to come.
> 
> Ostara: Chapter 11-15, The fate of the last dragon hangs in the balance. Merlin discovers more about his mother's past than he ever could have imagined.
> 
> Paschal Moon: Chapter 16, An interlude piece offering a new path for Merlin and his family.
> 
> Beltane: Chapter 17-22, Sefa struggles to accept Merlin's new role, and knights from the past struggle with new life.
> 
> Son of the Phoenix, A companion story to Shadow of the Goddess written for the Heart of Camelot Chronicles Challenge.


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